vr.i‘ ' 

\ ■■ « J 

i 

’ ^ :■ t -I 

fUi\ 


*rr 

* 5. V ♦ 

•sK>i 


.» .-.i /•! 

iVi vj 


y I- 1 


'>*:*• 

f \r|. I' 

i "V r 

I 

< ' r*:#' 

V’ ’ t ' :< 

hru 




rjr)i 


1 ’ ‘I j*' 


< < 

V» I .V » A 

J . ti 

?* r-*r 

' f i - 

•. /■J ?*. 

I I .■ 4 

< .4 I’ ’ f 

Wi.-l 


Tlftf 

■t » • ‘ 

« 1. 1 . » 
* V # I - 

’ f - i' ' 
»liiL M 

f - .»■ u' 

V f : ? 

» 4 - 1 1 
» • I .' 4 

•-• 1 » I i 

‘ -« » -‘ ■• 

f . ; . > 

.■* ;- t * 


,'- 4 1, < . 

< J I n ( 

. I .. 

‘ > r -i X 

-.{••,! 1 I 


V •< ,-♦! , * 

'C^ t i 

f‘. j ' j 

,# =» « i. I • • 


i' .■ 9 : t .. r \ J .. 
“ * 3 » M *»■ * ‘ 

• J r * 4 X f rf 1 t 

f- | i«*r4 *,. V 


i • i '* } * 

nr. f 


I •• I J • 
4 4 V 1 

.ri.v. 


J'I'f 


. I •, * j 4 

' - » < r -3* I 


U'tr. 

* . *.r 

1 f . ( 


VAT <r- 3 «|mf 

♦ »i ■ .: « » 5 f V 
? \ i \ .V i 


? \ i \ .V i 

? ‘ 7 

7 N .* 

r / t .* V 


w' » '• 


■ t, i » . ' 

I • « .1 

.' f -tA « 

'.vt -.V', 

t r'.f' 


#* d' 
I. • » ► > 


hnM 
f * I'f > 


.•(^ p * 

* 7 

» .5 » ;• < i* * - 


uy.^yxi 

I * • 4 ^ » »• < 


‘ *• i y«^ 

} 4 i 


it . • j* 

1 > «» ■% f 

rnf 

^■r-f 


• i i f < § 

I f ' 

'\f* f < t ' 

> •-. 4 . • / • ! 

O*' 7 « « 

If 4 « \< ? J 

■ f • ♦ •; y \ 


f 1 f* ^ 

1’ ? « ' 




> % i 1 1 . 

IW- 


rv.- 

V t ^ 

ty t 

* ^ > -t 


V'/ M 

1 1 4 I ^ 

■ i ’-n 

^ t M* 


'.f '.r 
5. > *.. 1 ; 

t.A,\ 

» *> * -I f. 
■•') V! >4 


/ * «• « ;' 
'.•/arS. 


• Vt ' (%\ r 4 

• V f • y f M i 

: • y* • * - ♦ • i, o * - 


( . Q 

4 « 41. • ^ 

► t ■• ‘ 

. ♦ - * T 

' « < 4 « 

»' ’ y *! ‘ 

i' ’'V- N ^ 
■ * - \ 

■i 1 •- •' 

f V * t; 

« •, ( 

* t i r 

\ 3 * 7 

'•/\V 

- •■ A l’ 

« - » •' 


• \ f • y f . I 
j « ' ♦ • * . ♦ ■ i« 

1 ■• * ..-I 4 «V • 

■ .5 » »,M 9 , ; '%i « 

1 ,.,V ■»< • r* > 

•SI** ' t i » » 


♦ • i. ^ * X 

: *. Ti 


I r t I ' f - t > 
’ .V f > T r « :) * f 
7 1 *■ « / 1 « »• S i 

fL\v..^.’! ,-5 

*»» ¥•» J 

f i'l 
f .1 f y » 


^ . . i .I >' .<!> i 
f .1 f y » i* f . i 

Vt 

^ ? V i 1 


i.\i' 




=. y ^ j 

'f’.i' 

« J- I •■* 

.• r.H 

: 1 -4 t 

t J t, » 


* 1 -• 

A . 

- » 

I .' I 

f ‘.f 

v;i 

h; 

-V « •■ 

I > 


V 4 -V * 0 


I .'f . » 


t 'I • -T 

? » ; » 


V f 


. } m % 

hv 

•t ‘ -< 


f • V .« 


a^'.vv 
\\ M 


-till »< •-»■ 

h: -'V' 

" i‘ W * v 

hi''-; 

?s.7 '.r 

/ ‘.f y? 

' ? ' 1 < 

• \ 

. sL. 


•t 4 a 

‘m 1? 


in 

i Jj. 


Uh 

' • M 
y * ‘ ' 

j “ « 
» • ~ 1 
.V » t »' 

■4 * ■ » 


• » ‘rt 


. *■ I * 

I ^y 
» -. » % 
1 

' f 


.•'Si A. 

I ? J. > 


1 • % % - •% 4 « • 

t .. V « • > « ■ 

W 7 * Sv -. < 

' ; ' , * • 4 - 


\^] I M’. 

'.• » ‘ * .» * , * 4-4 * ' * 


1 ^.4 

in,-! 




* p \ f i 


» 7 » * 


y ^ t ; i 

it.fr 


iy<yt 

t < f j 


•- tr: f 

yd'iv 


^ t . - «*. - » 
I . « }>»•• 
a i . / ,1 » 

-’v 

iifiy 

*{^iU 


. i i - f 
.» • ^ 


t V x * 4. 

7 ’ 

r.i\ r 
^\f\r 

s«‘. /Jr 

y -4 » •: i . 

« • r i , 


V / !- 


^ t I 

♦ -4 « 

• I - 1 

r, f • 

» f * * 

f iri 


HH 

f :>i.‘ 


<u* 

v>-n 

^ » ft i 

r’i '■ 

{• , • 

Js 4 ‘ J J 

, < U y 

y • • ■• 

' r -• »• 


?’ 1 ’• 

y f ' j , < 
•i I i y » 

rU'V 7 \ 

^ I .«; 1 » 


‘ J* 4 V i 

f ’ • * I 

J f '• I 

uV' 

'' t 

fii 

vv ,• 


J tf * 

> ’ - ^ 


?’ 7 *7 

tyu- 

a I - f . 

•ifi- 

' i‘ l • t 

nn: 

■ f ^ t 

* ~ if ;- 1 

iUAi 
ft /ilf 

«t , J- r 

I ^ r > . 

»* * 
f . 1 M 

f 1 { j.r 

rl tif 

.4 • t r 

* I . f 

iy^U 

fW V 

-. * -. r . 

« ; A i i 

K { *- r 

i>J .r 


4‘n 

O' 

J >1 

A I j». 

h f 
tU' 

r.i 




< , 4 ,• ‘ ;< « 

t i. 4 ? » 

' t - » J * - » 


, ^ < U I .1 • o 

.-I « y s . < 

in. ( < i 

* > * .. r 4* • 4 


. V . \ f 


.« • A 
■ .1 It; 
> * » » 


•ij ;i »» . 
f> » 1 f -» y , 

•> ■ • J , -1 • .fc 


• 4 . ( 

44:1/ - » , 
» / t * • it 

* * «' * ^ ^ 

Vt ‘.f t* 

» ; i . »•. , 

; o-''. 7‘7 


t.'i 

Itf 

r...7 

y“ ; 

:n, 7 


) • ^ f ;• » 

1 » • t 1 1 

^ 1 1 1 / 
t y t ;• f J \ 
■1 .* 4. f ^ T > 


* 1 •» _* * V '' t ' 
^ > ,-t :1 4/ 

r . t .'.I 4. ^• * * 

; •* 4 V t , 4 . “ 


V •* 4 V • . 1 4 •' 

* .-' t V <t y t « » 


’ r ' • 


y t .- i ^ ^ 

;-• , - t •:• I H- 

' » f ^ < ) t 

* 1' 4 ? * : 

% »! } 'J i i . 

t \ y -'i/ ’ ;* 


V ♦ 7 . I / 
I 1 • / 1 

i li « V 

t 7 » fV 

iU-[ 7 


I * f*vi 
rf. * S < 


* ? * J '( 

•i f 1 < y \ 

t 9 ^ ' .• f 

■ t •■ ? 1 


tv’ n 
V . I f 5 

’ i 't \ I 

» r>i » 

:• I ■ *. ;i 


♦ y ; , . 

fHHH 

f. > y V 4 .'1 V 

» » ' » 2 t .- 
f * I f •' I 
• < ^• 'f t , 

' t* y i 

. < a t 


tr f 

\ .’T « i' 


« A '- t 

t .' , J 

* ' 4 ’1 

• .f \ » 


-. «- r J 

’ f f 

'■U\ 

‘•hi 

f a 4 I 


< < • .li I •) - * 

j- • s > V ,| a ■« >: 

It.-'' ; •. M. 


| y c i' ■• M. 

•' » . . T 7 » J I - 
‘ , ; • > 


nn 

nn 

/ A I 4 

\ 7 ' ? 

' ♦. ‘ * 
I -J 7 
n 
» ■> f v 

x. \ I.- T 

y f' » 

• 'V 


A 1 4 » r f ; 


I 4 « , • u 4 i 

f tfitO’yV 

» « r ]« » - • t , 
vi ri * '.’• r 


' • n 4 » / • t ? 
S' I ;,.»>>!» 


» ^ J ' * ’• t 4 • * 

n..r { \ ?Vi^ 




* » \ e, t •. « Jt i. 

•« - t •< . t * 

' f • I. • < ^ I 


r/r V v-f 

r • = T sy l-y i 


ft - t s « !,• f \ 

.' Vl., V, ’.v \ 

t •' 1 : 'V :•« 


lI'!! V, i 


J .A, U 

t. V. 1,- ‘ , * 

tv--'- • I .-> i 

.* .- * • » 1 y 'I 

Vr i. 

. t . i ’ ' 


^\k 

r »' 

;.•« A 
• t 


1 - , 

ijl 

tif 
^ ’ / 
* xi 

\iy 
' /' 
<r: 


» « I 

hf 

*. ?* 


'i ■» • 

■ 7 ‘ 
V ' f 

0-? 

fiv 

‘i%S 

■ty/ 

. > ( 

5'0 


in 

f 'f 

f*; 7 
7 

T‘y 
r i 

ni- 

t",? 

' r; 

tk 




■9 « Jt • 

t vf ' 

r - < in .1 


J- 1 7 1 V •. 
\ X f C « ; 
/I -.'I V 4 
» /■ t J J 

f i* J 

4 i t 1 i £-4 

t »t -la f / 


t »t -la » / 

7 f ;s » 4 

f ? t '• 


•1 I :• t .1 •' 

/ ' t 

t • { ^ 

4*4 »* 


*1 r % f 

o y » 

v.'i i 

\ '■ \ i 

V I • « 

•a .'* 4 . 


r ' r* 

* .. J » 
» ii 1. t 


' 4 • t 

4ft- 

7 r 1 1 


> <1 1. t 

it ,' ) 

y * \ \ 

* /■» J 
yi 1 1 

V<- 1. 

■Hi 


>. 1 t 

i / y ? 

a., ’.4 

i 17 ' f 

4 f r . .. 

\i\n. 






7 > . • 

• r Jt » 

« > I . 

r 7 • 


* v.r *,• • 


ar ‘ 71 i 

• 1,1 

5 » I \ A 

\ .'i . 


t -, « ,1 

•rf » 

t Hi= 

HK 


Vi Vi 

• n , >■ 


V r ? 7 


‘.aw } 
va=i l 

"a/ly \ 


h./ vaat 


t ' • J. » 

n:‘\: 

>• y -' t ■ 


f yl . t 

or n 


i'Hv^ 

:-yH; 

i * I 

^ IW\ 
’f-.f 
f’ 


<•' t ^ I 


V if* 1 # f 

Ou 


> 0 l 

p • y * 

1 « > ? 


r’.fl 


/S’ 



























































A'^ *■ .i^A. V -•^. » 

JL t /* >. ^ 

^'i 








" i5k^‘ 













s * *> r 



* ' 

V\’’ S-.^ 



V, .V 

^'r. AV 



V' 

't '<5. .c> 

^ - V ^ 









c->, 

V ^ 0 , 

^ t-^ fl> ^ 



o 

o 

Z 

Kf‘ 

,# - 
V 

o 

-fe 


/>' ^ 



* A V 

<v '^4> ■> 



1 yt^ 

^'r d 







"XT^ ^ 


■ ‘ , . o 


X'5 °x. >-^ 



A 




* .1^^' - 
'V ^.p^, » 

d^ 



' 0 • >. "^ A '"o ^ s ^ 

c ^ ^ « ^o 0^ V ^ ^ 

> is/i!//.'^ ^ 







a O 0^ 


> * 0 ], 


\ -r i 

'j' o^ ■ ' 

•'*\/,s.. 










^ 'V ■> 

^ y 

O \\ * 0 c „ ^ * * ■' '' 1^'" 

' °o cP' o.' 







"" 

't 'p 1 *^ ,> 

■< V ® ^W 

Sk'f' ''^. y' ^ ■ ■#• 

V % . -X' * 'P. 

* d^ -V lA KW A) <^'r \V 



4 X 4. / ''^':i. 




* <X>‘ 

'V 'A. » 




.0 






. k ^ 






4 








The Spy Company 



S»; 1 








The Spy 

Company 


A Story of the Mexican War 


By 

/ 

Archibald Clavering Gunter 

AUTHOR OF 

“MR. BARNES OF NEW YORK,” “ THE CITY OF 
; MYSTERY,” ETC. 



NEW YORK 

THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 


^ 'i . •- o.'?-irjv OF 

CONGRESS. 

One Copy ReoEivfo 

mar gg 1903 

OOPVWOMT ENTRY 

CLASS OyKXc. No. 
COPY A. 





Copyright, 1901 
by 

A. C. GUNTER 
All Rights Reserved 

Puhlisbedf January^ /9OJ* 


CONTENTS 


BOOK I 

ESTRELLA GODFREY 

PAGE 

Chapter I. — Saratoga in Eighteen Hundred and Forty- 

four 5 

“ II. — War With Mexico - - . 23 

“ III. — The Captain of Texan Rangers - * 34 

“ IV. — The Fight for the Desert Spring - 49 

BOOK II 

Taylor’s camp at corpus christi 

Chapter V, — The March for the Rio Grande - - 64 

“ VI. — The Goliad House - - - 75 

“ VII. — The Dancing Girl of Matamoras - 88 

“ VIII. — “To Save Him, I Spare Her!” - 102 

BOOK III 

FRONTIER CHIVALRY 

Chapter IX. — The Passions of the Prairie - - II9 

** X. — The Smugglers’ Trail - - - 135 

XI. — The Glory of His Fighting - - 148 


4 


CONTENTS 



BOOK IV 



Miss Godfrey’s father 

PAGE 

Chapter 

XII. — “My Dear Daddy” - - _ 

164 


XIII. — The Coming of the Superintendent 

*74 

€t 

XIV. — Sharpe Hampton’s Sweetheart - 

190 

€t 

XV. — A Mighty Suspicion - . - 

207 

t€ 

XVI. — Night on the Lone Plantation - 

220 


BOOK V 



BEYOND THE RIO GRANDE 


Chapter 

XVII. — Florito’s Fandango ... 

239 

it 

XVIII.— The Waif of the Border - 

254 

it 

XIX. — The Spy Company - - « 

266 

it 

XX. — Carmelita’s Return - . - 

282 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



BY ARCHIE GUNN 

Miss Godfrey at Saratoga, 1 844 - - - Frontispiece 

“No Gold from You” - - - - « Page 94 

A Knight of the Prairie - - - - “158 

Night on the Lone Plantation - - - - <<222 

The Defense of the Convent wall - - - 286 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


BOOK I. 

Estrella Godfrey. 


CHAPTER I. 

SARATOGA IN EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR. 

The summer night was falling softly upon Saratoga 
when that great watering place was scarce more than 
a village embowered in trees ; when most of its present 
magnificent avenues 'were pretty turnpike roads and 
some only bridle paths; Saratoga when those who 
sought its summer retreat came to it leisurely, many of 
them by stage-coach, to find recreation in its pleasant 
country and health in the living waters of its sparkling 
springs; the Saratoga of 1844, before half a dozen 
converging railroads had made it part of our rushing, 
bustling, frantic, modern world ; a quiet, serene picnic 
place only disturbed — by politics. 

Even on this placid evening towards the end of 
August, though the lights of the big dining room of 
the old United States Hotel illuminated the great 
fancy dress ball of the season. Democrats and Whigs 
clashed as hotly upon the big verandas and tree shaded 
pleasance as they did at political joint discussions and 
torchlight demonstrations or even in the halls of Con- 
gress itself. 


( 5 ) 


6 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


The scene was one of great beauty, the grounds of 
the hotel being made brilliant with colored lanterns 
and the ball-room vivacious by shepherdesses, Italian 
peasant girls, vivandieres and “queens of the nigEt',” 
who chatted coyly with courtiers, knights and trou- 
badours; while bad imitations of Indians, inspired by 
brandy smashes and mint juleps uttered their war 
whoops in the bar-room or smoked their pipes of peace 
on the broad verandas with equally incompetent rep- 
resentatives of the trappers of the West and voyageurs 
of Canada. 

Though the ladies were robed as queens, fairies, 
sylphs and maids of honor, and were supposed to ex- 
emplify every clime and every century since history 
began, still they could not forget they were American 
women, and their usual topics of conversation, rides 
to the lake, visits to the Indian encampments and even 
the all-pervading gossip as to how many glasses were 
drunk by each individual at the Congress Spring in 
the morning, were sometimes mixed with as excited 
annexation discussions as those indulged in by their 
cavaliers. 

For the hardy band of pioneers, settlers and some- 
times even fugitives from justice in the United States 
that had gradually, during preceding years, drifted 
across the Louisiana border had in 1836 achieved 
Texan independence, defeating the Mexican forces 
under Santa Anna in the pitched battle of San Jacinto, 
and avenging the cruel massacre of Goliad and the 
bloody shambles of the Alamo. 

For eight years, though recognized by France, Eng- 
land and Spain, the young Republic had been in 
a quasi state of war with its mother country, Mexico, 
a large portion of its plains being raided over by al- 
ternate bands of ranchero bandits and Comanche 
Indians. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


7 


Under these circumstances, Texas was in 1844 ap- 
plying for annexation to the United States and ad- 
mission into the American Union, a thing the Democ- 
racy under Mr. Polk were clamorous for, but which 
was bitterly assailed by Whigs and other Anti-Slavery 
advocates as leading to certain war with Mexico and 
the additional political complication of immense ter- 
ritorial extension within the slave belt. 

Two ladies seated on one of the broad balconies of 
the hotel and looking in at the brilliant ball-room em- 
phasize this. 

“Honor bright, did you really drink six glasses 
of Congress water this morning, my dear Mrs. Per- 
kins?” whispers Selina Chauncey, the dashing young 
wife of an Alabama Representative, robed as the Pom- 
padour. ‘T was only able to absorb three, and my 
maid had to unlace me right afterwards.” * 

This confidence is interrupted by a shiver from 
Queen Elizabeth, who on ordinary occasions is Mrs. 
Perkins, the spouse of a Whig Senator from Indiana. 
She is a prim matron of about fifty, and half shudders : 
“Did you ever ! If that awful girl isn’t bringing poli- 
tics on her back into the ball-room.” 

“No, Madame, you do Miss Godfrey injustice,” re- 
plies Selina Chauncey, stoutly. “She is carrying pa- 
triotism, not politics, upon her fair shoulders. What 
finer idea for a Texan girl than to depict her country- 
men’s appeal for the aid of their cousins of the United 
States against the bully Mexico.” 

“Why, I did not know Miss Godfrey was a Texan,” 
says Mrs. Perkins ; “she came here from New York 
with Mr. Martin and his family. Clara Martin and 
she are like sisters.” 

“Oh, mercy! Ain’t you aware she is the greatest 
heiress in Texas, that is, if her father’s, old Jim God- 
frey’s million acres of bottom land in that country, 


8 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


which is being harried by Mexican bandits and Co- 
manche Indians, are ever healthy to live in. Estrella 
Larue Godfrey is Texan to the backbone !” 

“And has got plenty of frontier boldness, which isn’t 
nice in young girls,” criticises the Whig lady. “See, the 
crowd are even clapping their hands at her. It’s dis- 
graceful !” 

“Why shouldn’t they applaud her?” retorts Mrs. 
Chauncey, “Miss Godfrey represents the State of 
Texas half draped in the American flag, which will 
wholly drape it when we Democrats, this autumn, 
have elected Mr. Polk, President; Mr. Clay and you 
Whigs to the contrary notwithstanding.” 

“Never! The American people are not crazy. Mr. 
Clay will be triumphantly returned!” cries the other, 
stamping her foot, and a political riot might take 
place right on the balcony of the hotel between these 
two distinguished ladies, did not a young Arkansas 
gentleman, who has just strolled out of the bar-room, 
ejaculate enthusiastically: “Cock a doodle for Miss 
Texas!” and a young American dandy, who has just 
returned from European travel, ask laughingly : 
“What is Texas?” 

At this the two political ladies forget their dispute 
in a burst of laughter, especially as old Jupiter Per- 
kins, the Whig war horse from Indiana, saunters up 
about this time, taps his wife playfully upon the 
shoulder and says : “What, Sally, you and Selina quar- 
reling again?” Then adjusting his spectacles he adds : 
“Over that young lady, I presume. She carries with 
her the charm of beauty and the exquisite womanhood 
of America, and looks mighty well in the star spangled 
banner; but she’s too young to be dragged into poli- 
tics. I think I’ll go up and get introduced to the 
Republic of Texas.” 

“Yes, but don’t you let her beguile you to vote for 


THE SP.y COMPANY. 


9 


the Mexican War,” whispers his wife. “She’s so beau- 
tiful, she may make a fool of you, Jupiter.” 

This might easily be true, for Saratoga has rarely 
seen a prettier picture than was made that evening 
by Miss Estrella Larue Godfrey under the brilliant 
lights of the United States ball-room. 

The girl is in the first budding of young woman- 
hood. Her figure, not as yet completely developed, is 
perhaps too slight for perfect beauty, but gives prom- 
ise of glorious maturity. Her patrician features would 
be strangely firm, for one so young, did not the mod- 
esty of her eyes make her face seem very soft and 
feminine. Embarrassed by the gaze of so many, for 
she is attracting almost universal attention, the shrink- 
ing diffidence of her pose and movements gives al- 
most a pathos to her graceful figure. 

Her fancy costume is that of the young Republic 
of Texas, a wreath of myrtles upon her brown hair, 
a single star of blue upon the white satin corsage of 
her robe, but over this a banner of the United States 
of the finest silken gauze, crossing her white shoulders, 
drapes her nascent bosom like a sash, and girdled 
about her lithe waist falls over a floating white, skirt 
of shining satin. 

It is as if the maid were the little Republic of Texas 
appealing for the protection of the powerful Republic 
whose inhabitants are of the same blood and same 
family against her tyrant Mexico. 

Blazoned upon the front of the draping skirt is 
“Remember the Alamo !” words that even to-day make 
the Yankee heart beat faster at the heroism of the 
American race as shown by that little band, whose 
names still cause schoolboys’ hearts to thrill when 
they hear of Travis, Bowie and Davy Crockett. 

Blood is thicker than water, and many who have 
opposing political opinions look enthusiastically at the 


10 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


daughter of one of those emigrants that wandered 
away from the United States and with rifle and bowie 
knife carved out a little nation from haughty Mex- 
ico, watering their new country plenteously with their 
blood upon the rich bottom lands of the Brazos, Trin- 
ity and San Antonio, the sun dried mesas of the Llano 
Estacado and the arid wastes of the Rio Grande. 

Faltering under this admiration, which is probably 
much greater than she had expected, the maiden droops 
diffidently, and perhaps would retreat from the bril- 
liant illumination of the ball-room to the more dimly- 
lighted verandas did not at this moment Clara Mar- 
tin, a dashing, direct-speaking New York girl dressed 
as a vivandiere, come tripping up to her, and swinging 
the canteen she carries over her shoulder, cry laugh- 
ingly : “Take a swig from my canteen and brace up, 
Strella. Here’s a chance to make a hit for your Lone 
Star country. Let me present to you the Honorable 
Jupiter Perkins, the Whig war horse. Convert him, 
my dear, to Texan annexation !” 

Whereupon the bashful look flies out of Miss God- 
frey’s face, her beautiful brown eyes beam like the em- 
blem of her native land. She glances at the Sena- 
tor from Indiana, and proceeds to do the best she 
can with the old Whig war horse, saying with charm- 
ing naivete : “Wouldn’t you like me for a country- 
woman, Mr. Perkins?” 

“Do coons like posSum?” laughs the Senator, adding 
to this proverb of the Mississippi Valley: “Judging 
by the looks of the boys about you, I imagine you can 
become a citizeness of the United States, Miss Godfrey, 
as soon as a parson can be procured and without the 
annexation of the State of Texas.” 

Though the girl blushes painfully, she cries deter- 
minedly: “A flank attack is not fair, Mr. Senator,” 
and inspired by the thoughts of her distant country, 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


1 1 

this eleve in diplomacy dares to assault the politics of 
the veteran statesman; of course without effect. Old 
Jupe Perkins has not been thirty years a dyed-in- 
the-wool Whig of the Clay- Webster stripe, to be con- 
verted by two pretty lips, though the animation of the 
interview adds the vivacity of many changing emotions 
to the exquisite features of the young proselyter. 

Finally the veteran politician, growing perhaps tired 
of being almost lectured by this adolescent Hypatia, 
answers her in the pleasant condescension of age for 
youth. “My dear child, permit me to tell you that like 
most Democrats you are all abroad on the subject of 
slave extension, upon which you are making a very 
pretty stump speech.” 

“Child ! I am eighteen !” cries the girl, indignantly. 
“Know nothing of the subject? I was born in Texas, 
sir!” 

“Yes, born in Texas, but sent from there when al- 
most a baby, I believe. Your friend of friends, that 
pert little vivandiere, Clara Martin, before she intro- 
duced me to you, let that cat out of the bag. Miss 
Yancy’s Boarding School on West Eighth Street, I 
reckon also, isn’t exactly the place to study one of 
the greatest political questions of the age. If Mr. 
Polk and Mr. Calhoun couldn’t convert me, I hardly 

think you can, though ” The Senator palliates his 

remark by adding: “You talk much prettier than old 
James Knox P. of North Carolina.” 

“You’re right! I was sent from Texas to save me 
from the dangers of its wild life after my dear little 
sister had been stolen by Indians or bandits,” answers 
Miss Godfrey, her bright face growing strangely sad. 
“That’s what was told, me by my mother, who came 
with me, and died here when I was a very little girl, 
leaving me alone, save for the kindness of Clara Martin 
and her father, for my father has not been able to visit 


12 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


me. He has been fighting in the War of Texan In- 
dependence, and since then has been defending his 
property against the raids of partisans, bandits and 
Comanches. You’re right, Mr. Perkins, I know very 
little of the subject except from my dear father’s fit- 
ters to a child who petitions you to induce your great 
country to take such action as will permit him to recall 
his daughter to his roof-tree protected by a flag suffi- 
ciently powerful to make his home safe both from 
Mexican forays and Indian ravages.” 

This speech, made pathetic by a bewitching face 
whose eyes are tearily beseeching, strangely affects the 
old Whig war horse. He mutters huskily : '‘You have 
said more to me in the last few words, my dear young 
lady, than any other Democratic stump speaker in 
the country. I will consider your appeal.” 

But even as Estrella gives him a bright, grateful 
glance, the veteran of New World affairs starts, gazes 
searchingly at her, and becomes strangely moved and 
interested. His eyes are fixed upon a plain circlet of 
gold that is pinned upon the corsage of her dress. 

Noting his glance, she says : “Oh, you are gazing 
at the golden circle ! Strange, several gentlemen have 
been interested in it this evening. What makes you re- 
gard so curiously a bauble which my mother brought 
with her from Texas, and told me my father used to 
wear? It is the only thing I have to remember him 
by.” 

“My dear child,” says the veteran statesman, quite 
moved, “to explain what that means would be beyond 
my power, because I only guess at it myself. There- 
fore I shall not cloud your bright young brow with con- 
jectures. What you want to do this evening is to give 
the boys a chance and turn your attention to love, at 
which you’ll be even cuter than politics !” 

At this suggestion, the young lady blushes vividly; 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


^3 


then a troubled look comes upon her innocent features, 
she hangs her head. 

“Hello ! By the confusion on your face, you’ve been 
at it already !” grins the Solon. 

This insinuation Miss Estrella, with quick feminine 
tact and precocious astuteness, parries by opening her 
bright eyes and saying naively: “Law, Senator Per- 
kins, I haven’t left boarding school ! I am only eigh- 
teen.” 

“Humph, a girl of your eyes can do a good deal of 
damage at that age,” chuckles the Western war horse. 
But getting away from the Texan Hypatia, he mutters 
to himself grimly: “Her dad went to Texas wearing 
one of those tarnation golden circles. By the Etarnal, 
is the curse started by the ambition of that schemer 
Aaron Burr never to be lifted from us ?” 

Sitting upon the balcony of the hotel, the Western 
statesman goes into a meditation, refusing glumly all 
invitations to liquor from kindred statesmen in so ab- 
stracted and morose a manner that Quigley of Illinois 
whispers to Buncombe of Ohio: “I wonder if. the 
great Perkins is afraid of losing his seat in the Senate 
at the coming general election.” 

“Can’t tell,” remarks Congressman Buncombe. “It’s 
going to be a tarnation hard fight and Polk may become 
President on this Texas enthusiasm. ‘Remember the 
Alamo’ is getting to be a war cry that stampedes Whigs 
during this campaign as it did Greasers down at 
San Jacinto. Just look at that girl there in the ball- 
room. With that tarnation catchy political riggin’ and 
those languishing bright eyes of hers, she’d be as good 
as a thousand votes to the Democratic ticket if the 
polls were open to-morrow at Saratoga. Do you see 
her? Look at the young fellows prancing about her 
like bears round honey.” 

“Some of them will get bee’s stings from her brighl 


14 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


eyes if they don’t hold their horses,” guffaws Quigley, 
who represents the First Congressional District of 
Illinois and is considered rather a wag in the House. 

Quigley is pretty near right in his divination. Mr. 
Senator Perkins has shot very close to the bull’s-eye 
when he twitted Miss Estrella Larue Godfrey as to her 
love affairs. Her eighteen-year-old eyes have done al- 
ready considerable damage to half a score of admirers, 
but more especially to young Charley Pelham of New 
York, just graduated from West Point and gazetted 
into the Second Dragoons, and Mr. Jasper Carew 
Moncton, who is reputed at '‘The Springs” to be a 
Louisiana planter. 

Accompanied by his mother, who dotes upon him, a 
beautiful lady of middle age, the first of these is in 
Saratoga enjoying his two months’ leave before enter- 
ing active duty. The second, Mr. Moncton, has ap- 
parently no object except pleasure at the Springs. 

Mr. Pelham being engaged in escorting his mother 
to her room and bidding her a tender good night, has 
left the field, for the moment, open to his rival, and 
Jasper Moncton is taking advantage of it. 

Dressed in the clawhammer coat of deep rolled 
collar, embossed velvet vest, tight fitting trousers 
spread out over patent leather pumps, and with an 
elaborate black stock, which indicate the extreme of 
a beau’s evening costume of that period, this gentle- 
man, who is about thirty years of age, is now at Miss 
Godfrey’s side. 

He has an active, well proportioned figure and a 
bearing marked by a quick confidence and self-asser- 
tion. His face would be prepossessing and his dark 
eyes engaging, were it not for their extraordinary 
alertness, his glances at times being so rapid that their 
expression can scarcely be distinguished. These at 
present, however, are fixed upon Miss Godfrey. The 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


15 


gentleman’s manner is unusually suave, yet extremely 
confident, and his eager attentions to Estrella rather 
pleasing to the vanity of one who is still a school girl. 

Mr. Moncton’s devotion to the object of his pursuit 
for the past few weeks has been so marked that the 
more casual admirers about Miss Godfrey this evening, 
concluding that she favors him over the common herd, 
have gradually left them to their own society. Relieved 
of witnesses, a curious possession has entered the 
gentleman’s bearing. Even very young girls have in- 
stinct in these matters, and Moncton’s passion is now 
sufficiently marked to cause Estrella to grow nervous 
and more distant in her manner. 

But Jasper Moncton is not to be easily repulsed or 
shaken off by one he deems scarce more than a child. 
Though he has in their two months’ acquaintance re- 
ceived no real encouragement from Miss Estrella God- 
frey, save the bright glances of happy maidenhood, he 
is stimulated perhaps more by her indifference than he 
would be by her complaisance. And in the last few 
days the gentleman has grown very j ealous of her. 

Young Charley Pelham, with his dashing military 
West Point air, boyish enthusiasm and open heart, has 
gazed so ardently with his brilliant eyes that Moncton 
fears that if he does not speak now, the ardent officer 
will have his say to beauty before him. 

Therefore with considerable tact and a certain easy, 
take-it-for-granted manner, he shortly succeeds in 
leading the young heiress of Texas lands to a secluded 
nook on the big piazza which a lot of shrubbery and 
flag decorations have cut off from the better lighted 
part of the hotel, making just the sort of temple a man 
can worship his goddess in — if she will let him. 

Tired with her political propaganda. Miss Godfrev 
sinks rather languidly into a seat ; then delights her ad- 
mirer by murmuring : 'T am glad converting old Sen- 


i6 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


ator Perkins is over. From now on I am going to for- 
get politics and have a pleasant evening.” 

“Thank you,” says the gentleman very ardently. 
Encouraged by the compliment, though the girl means 
nothing by it, he seats himself by her side and begins a 
tale that always frightens a true daughter of Eve when 
she for the first time in her young life hears it. Aside 
from a maid’s bashfulness, the primal knowledge that 
she has a man’s life in her keeping, a man’s career in her 
hand to take or to throw away, awes any thinking de- 
butante in the mysteries of Venus’s Temple, and Miss 
Estrella Godfrey is much frightened. The impetuous 
fervor of her suitor at first stuns her as well as alarms 
her. She is so dazed she has nearly been kissed and 
called his own before she recovers sentiency sufficient 
to shrink from his clasp and say: “Stop! You — 
you have misunderstood my silence.” 

“Misunderstood you?” mutters Moncton as if 
stunned himself. “No, no, I cannot have misunder- 
stood you. In the last few blessed weeks, you have 
permitted me to ride with you so often — you have ” 

“But always with Clara cantering along on the other 
side of me,” stammers the neophyte in flirtation. 

“You have looked upon me.” 

“But only as a friend. Besides,” the maid adds dis- 
ingenuously, “Mr. Martin would never permit my be- 
ing wooed without the consent of my father.” 

But to her astonishment, this mention of her father 
adds to Moncton’s confidence. Jasper says in easy 
assertion: “Your father, I am certain, were he here, 
would add his commands to my entreaties.” 

“Impossible!” cries Miss Godfrey, astounded. “My 
father is in Texas, at the other end of the world. Be- 
sides, he would never coerce me on such a subject, 
though I never could say yes without his blessing.” 

Noting that assurance does not aid his suit, Mr. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


17 


Moncton pleads earnestly : ^ ‘You cannot mean to re- 
fuse a love like mine.” 

“But I do mean to refuse it.” Then the girl whis- 
pers penitently : “Forgive me, I don’t wish to be 
harsh in my rejection, but I’m only a school-girl. 1 
have never been proposed to before. Take pity on me 
— don’t be angry with me.” 

“Angry with you ?” Hope flies again into the man’s 
eyes. “Angry with you? That’s impossible, Estrella.” 

Again the moustache is coming closer to the tempt- 
ing lips. The gentleman’s arm is almost about the 
slight waist, when womanhood triumphs over imma- 
turity, and the girl desperately pulls herself from him 
and says sternly : “Don’t mistake kindness for any- 
thing else, Sir. If I must make it plain to you, I — I 
do not love you.” 

“You — you love another?” Moncton’s eyes have 
grown sinster, even baneful. 

“Oh, no,” sighs the interrogated one, “I — I hope not 
—I ” 

“Ah, then you do love another !” 

“I — I don’t know anything about it,” answers Miss 
Godfrey petulantly. She is scarce more than a child, 
and this dominant man’s persistency annoys her. “But 
I tell you I can never love you.” 

“But you will marry me!” answers the wooer com- 
mandingly; the plain golden circle pinned upon the 
damsel’s bosom seeming to lend confidence to his 
tones. “By that little sign upon your breast which you 
do not understand but I do, I tell you I shall make the 
winning of you the object of my life. My child, you 
are as surely mine as if the priest had said man and 
wife to you and me I” His blazing eyes enforce his fer- 
vid words. 

Under the possessive passion of his glances, the girl 


i8 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


grows crimson to her shoulders ?nd cries indignantly : 
“When you look at .me like that, I — I hate you !” 

Stung by her words and made carelessly vindictive 
by her scorn, he retorts sneeringly yet arrogantly: 
“You are a little crude yet. I am in no hurry. A year 
or two and you will be the riper cherry for the pluck- 
ing, little one. Good-bye! Every time you think of 
your father, remember you are as surely mine as if you 
had said yes instead of no. Look on the golden circle 
pinned upon your corsage and know it is my wedding 
ring !” 

“No, no, anything but that!” almost screams the 
predicted bride, made frantic by his sneering and as- 
tounding words; but he, not answering her, saunters 
away in affected nonchalance, carelessly pausing as he 
passes through the potted palm trees to light a cigar. 

Alone, Miss Godfrey takes three short breaths and 
gasps mentally: “Thank God, this dastard’s anger 
unmasked him. And he has the assurance to say my 
father would support his suit!” she jeers. “Half an 
hour ago I thought him a passingly pleasant gentle- 
man, but was indifferent to him. Now I know Mr. 
Moncton, I despise him, I loathe him. I could never 
love him.” Agitated by both rage and shame, she 
sinks into a seat again, communes tremblingly with her 
fair self, and finally enunciates to herself this curious 
proposition : “Strange, the knowledge given me by 
this wretch’s audacious assault not only on my heart 
but on my very modesty has made me doubt whether I 
could love any man.” 

Her meditations are broken in upon by a young, 
liquid but savage feminine voice which says in un- 
compromising familiarity: “Strella, you wretch, come 
with me to papa at once. You have got me in an 
awful scrape. We are both to be sent back to boarding 
school to-morrow.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 19 

Miss Clara Martin is standing beside her, looking as 
distressed as if she were a real vivandiere of the grand 
army of Napoleon reflecting on Waterloo. 

“How have I got you into a scrape, Clara, dear?” 
asks Miss Godfrey sweetly. 

“How? By permitting the attentions of that hor- 
rible Mr. Moncton. Pa has found out about him; 
says he is nothing more than a Mississippi River 
gambler. And then going into seclusion and sitting 
with him here till half the women in the hotel are tear- 
ing you in pieces with their tongues.” 

“You are right ! I do deserve to be sent back to 
boarding school for letting that wretch tell me whether 
I like or no that he will marry me,” shudders the ac- 
cused one impulsively. 

“Yes, but you’re not right in getting me sent back 
also when I was having such a lovely time. Good 
heavens! How shall I tell poor Jack Boulder ? He and 
I were going to have a tete-a-tete picnic out on the 
lake to-morrow,” mutters Clara. “Anyway, you’re 
punished also. Young fiery eyed Pelham of the 
Dragoons won’t have a chance to make love to you any 
more.” 

“I hope he won’t,” says Estrella sadly. “I hope no 
man will, for now I know I shall never love any man.” 

At this pessimistic declaration, Miss Clara Martin, 
who is a dashing brunette of the most vivacious type, 
slightly more matured than her friend, laughs : 
“Idiot! When you love, you will be spoonier than I 
can be;” then cries: “But come on. Pa has given his 
orders. Zelma has half packed your trunks already 
and Elise is now at work on mine,” adding philosophi- 
cally : “Anyway, summer is nearly over, and if I had 
stayed here much longer, that crazy Jack Boulder 
would have made a fool of either himself or me.” 
With this. Miss Martin goes away humming quite 
cheerfully “Wait for the Wagon.” 


20 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Miss Godfrey would follow her chum to her 
guardian, did not a handsome young fellow in accurate 
evening dress but with that indescribable set up and 
military bearing that West Point always gives to its 
graduates stop her for a few hurried words. “I was 
detained by my mother, who is not very well this even- 
ing, Miss Estrella,” he says quite tenderly and almost 
apologetically. ‘‘But now ” 

“Now I am going to pack my trunks,” answers the 
young lady, slightly agitated at his fervid eyes. To 
refuse two men in one evening would be too much for 
her inexperienced nerves, and Charley Pelham is a 
gentleman she not only respects but likes very much. 

“Pack your trunks?” falters the young man, as if 
he does not understand. 

“Yes, I am going to be sent back to school to-mor- 
row. A big dragoon like you fighting Indians on the 
plains will soon forget a fledgling, and from now on I 
have got to think of French, music and grammar, or 
Miss Yancy will haul me over the coals.” 

Cadet hops and West Point flirtations have given 
Charley Pelham a fairly shrewd insight into the emo- 
tions and characteristics of girlhood. He divines what 
a terrible effort it must be for sweet eighteen to dub 
herself a child. He appreciates the sacrifice the pretty 
lips are making to prevent his speaking words that will 
call for a woman’s answer. He looks at her piercingly 
for a moment ; then sighs : “I — I fear I understand 
you. Good-bye!” next says hoarsely: “But just one 
souvenir of a sweet two months.” Before she can stay 
him he has torn a portion of the American flag from 
her costume. 

“Some day I will bring this back to you; some day 
when you are a woman,” he mutters, and kisses the 
token. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


21 


Just for one moment she turns and whispers : “But 
forgive the child !” then flits from him. 

Gazing after her till her graceful figure grows dim in 
the vista of the great veranda whose lights are still 
shining brilliantly on fair women and brave men, Pel- 
ham puts his hand to his heart and mutters to himself : 
“Child as she is, had she but loved me, she would have 
cried with every breath to me: ‘Woman! Woman! 
Woman I’ ” 

Then the gay scene seems very gloomy to the 
young West Pointer, and the sweet music of the Siren 
Waltzes played by the Boston Orchestra appears very 
poor melody and full of discords. 

As for the man whose audacious prophecy and un- 
controlled passion has brought about not only his own 
undoing but his rival’s; he had long ago wandered 
away and joined some friends in the bar-room. Drink- 
ing did not make him forget, and smoking moodily 
during the long summer night, Jasper Moncton held 
consultation with himself. Once he mentally exclaims : 
“I was a little foolish to let my temper run away with 
me; but just as sure as no horse can trot in 2 : 20 ,* that 
little saucy puss shall call me husband and fawn upon 
me for a caress. What Jasper Moncton wants, he 
has I” 

The charming girl’s piquant rejection of this sport- 
ing man of the South and West, both sections rather 
barbaric in the early forties, makes him desire her all 
the more; not that Jasper Moncton loves Estrella 
Godfrey, but he is determined to have the butter- 
fly that he is chasing. Miss Godfrey’s Texas lands 
will be worth a lot of money when the flag of the 
United States floats over them. Glancing at a little in- 

*At that time Flora Temple had not trotted her mile in 
2:19-14:, and the trotting record of 2:20 was regarded an impos- 
sibility.— 


22 


THE SPY COM PAH y. 


signia he wears upon his breast, he thinks : “As 
Knight of the Golden Circle, I know this will come very 
soon.’’ For his information as an officer of that mys- 
terious yet baneful society, whose branches spread out 
from New Orleans over the South and West* tells him 

* This mysterious society, “The Knights of the Golden 
Circle,” was supposed by many to have been an off-shoot from 
the secret organization brought together by Aaron Burr, 
which resulted in the trial of that ambitious politician for 
treason in 1807. 

Though known to many, it was whispered of by few. It 
was supposed to be devoted not only to the extension of slav- 
ery, but to the forming of an immense slave empire that 
should include the Isles of the West Indies and the vast coun- 
try of the Montezumas. 

Many of the efforts at slave territorial extension came from 
this powerful but silent organization. A great many of the 
young drifting adventurers of the United States inspired or 
secretly directed by it went to Texas with the object of an- 
nexing not only that state but all of the Mexican Confederacy. 
At the triumphant close of the Mexican war, when this coun- 
try had obtained from its defeated opponent not only Texas 
but California, Utah, New Mexico, Arizona and parts of 
Colorado and Nevada, it was predicted that the next military 
advance would add every foot of Mexican soil to the United 
States; of course, as slave states. 

The Golden Circle inspired the filibustering expeditions of 
Walker in 1856 to Nicaragua; likewise the tragic attempt 
upon Sonora made by Californians; also the invasions 
in 1848, ’50 and ’51, of Narisse Lopez into Cuba. 

It flourished from 1840 to i860 like the Upas tree, giving 
out an atmosphere baneful yet intangible, and by its occult 
influence had doubtless much to do with the action of many 
politicians which brought about the war between the States 
and watered this land with the blood of myriads of brave men. 

But little has been written about the powerful but mysteri- 
ous association; an innate dread of discussing it seemed to 
linger over the United States until it and its barbaric object 
and ambitious hopes died at Gettysburg when Picket’s im- 
mortal charge failed, and the starry banner of the Confederate 
States began to fade. — Editor. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


23 


that the United States is upon the eve of one of its 
grand territorial grabs, such as take place every sec- 
ond generation, when the great Yankee nation 
takes another portion of the world into its embrace and 
Uncle Sam tosses a few more stars into the blue firma- 
ment of its flag and makes a few more sovereign states 
to add to this great American Commonwealth. 

Turning this over in his mind, Jasper Moncton re- 
marks to himself half laughingly : “Strella’s as 
skittish as a filly when she first feels the rope. Reckon 
the haughty little beauty would have been more scared 
if she guessed why I came up North. Then a blazing 
triumph lights up his dark eyes as he mutters these 
remarkable words : “Calculate this high society around 
here makes her too bumptious to look at a plain river- 
boat sporting man. Texas is my gaming-table!” 


CHAPTER 11 . 

WAR WITH MEXICO. 

Early in 1846, eighteen months after Miss Godfrey’s 
Saratoga adventure, old Alexander Martin, who has 
her under his wing, addresses his charge one brisk 
February day in the library of his handsome New 
York house in University Place. This gentleman is 
the head of Martin, Best & Co., very prominent com- 
mission merchants of South Street and factors for 
Southern planters, the firm doing a large business in 
the sugar of Louisiana, the cotton of the Gulf States, 
the tar and turpentine of North Carolina, as well as 
business with the West Indies, Vera Cruz and Mexico, 
and the little budding seaport of Galveston, Texas, 
where thev have a small branch office. There is a 


24 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


rather sad glint in his grim, determined, commercial 
eyes as he says : “I might as well break the news and 
get over with it ’Strella. I have a letter from your 
father in which he asks me to send you to Texas/’ 

‘‘Thank God, at last I shall see my father!” The 
girl’s voice rings out true, silvery, hopeful. “Ever 
since I left school six months ago I have been waiting, 
hoping, praying for his permission to join him.” 

“Humph, but you do not know exactly what Texas 
is, my dear,” remarks the old merchant. “Even now, 
though the United States has taken it under its wing, 
it is a debatable land and very rough and tough people 
are debating about it. A number of its settlers, as 
your mother must have told you, were fugitives from 
justice both of the United States and Mexico. There- 
fore it has a good many lawless people still among its 
inhabitants. You do not know Texas, my child.” 

“Don’t I ?” cries the young lady, the ringing tones of 
her voice and the flashing of her eyes in charming con- 
trast with the delicate lineaments of her patrician face 
and the lightness of her graceful figure. “I know it 
is the country of the dead heroes of the Alamo and 
Goliad and the live ones of San Jacinto. I know it 
is the country my dear father fought and bled for under 
old Sam Houston ; the country I was born in ; my 
country, though I cannot remember it.” 

“Very well,” responds the veteran of commerce, 
shortly, “when will you be ready to go?” 

“Now; to-morrow; any time! The sooner the bet- 
ter !” Expectant love and enthusiastic tenderness dim 
the girl’s bright eyes ; she murmurs : “My father. 
At last, I shall see him and I shall know him !” 

“Under these circumstances,” replies the merchant, 
putting his hand over his eyes as if anxious to con- 
ceal the sadness of parting with this girl he has had 
under his charge since the death of her mother, some 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


25 


eight years before this, “you had better tell my daugh- 
ter at once, so that you and Clara can get your farewell 
tears over as soon as possible. Make the arrangements 
and do the shopping I presume a young lady of New 
York fashion will find necessary before leav- 
ing for a half barbarous land. I presume you will 
have a long visit at Mr. Stewart’s marble store, and this 
check will be convenient for you.” 

“Did my father send all that money for me?” queries 
Miss Godfrey, gazing at the piece of paper. “Hasn’t 
he always been generous to the child whose face he 
cannot remember, to the girl whose eyes might look 
upon him and not know him?” This she a moment 
after contradicts by ejaculating: “But no, I am sure 
some instinct would tell me if I looked on his dear 
face !” 

“Pish, I’m hardly so certain of that,” dissents old 
Martin, who is seated at his desk. “You have no 
miniature of your father, not even one of these new 
fangled daguerreotypes.” 

“Daguerreotypes were not invented when I was 
carried away from Texas, and portrait painters would 
have hardly been able to take care of their scalps in the 
land my mother has described to me. Bowie knives, 
rifles and pistols were more in vogue than artists’ 
paint brushes or pencils in the valleys of the Brazos, 
San Antonio and Trinity. You have never seen my 
father either, Mr. Martin?” continues the girl. “As 
soon as I see him I’ll write you a good long description 
of the man who has become by his correspondence your 
friend.” 

“Humph, yes! Of course, I have never seen Jim 
Godfrey,” replies the merchant, “though I have been 
his factor since 1836. You know at that time old 
John Kissam Horner, who was in the Texas trade, was 
your father’s agent, but owing to commercial troubles 


2b 


THE SPY COiMPANY. 


brought about by the Texan revolution, Horner failed 
and left New York. Then your father turned his ac- 
count over to me by a letter that I could hardly de- 
cipher. Though he writes better now, his correspond- 
ence is generally pretty terse and to the point.” 

“Oh, yes, 1 know,” assents Estrella, “when poor 
papa’s hand vvas so frightfully injured in the fight at 
Rock Springs he could for six months hardly hold a 
pen in it at all, and the few lines he could send my 
dear mother seemed so different. Why, even she could 
hardly recognize his handwriting. But papa’s words 
were just as loving, even when wounded nigh unto 
death. I am going to make a very dutiful daughter to 
my father for all the sacrifices he has made for me, 
giving me plenty of money when money must have 
been hard to obtain.” 

“Well, it’s hard enough for him to get now, for 
the troubles of Texas are not entirely over, my dear, 
and it is that which makes me hesitate about sending 
you,” mutters the man of affairs. 

. "That you shall not do. I must go. I will go. My 
father is growing old. He needs a daughter’s hand !” 
cries Estrella excitedly. 

“And you do not hesitate to give up New York 
gaiety and fashion?” 

“Not a bit,” answers the girl, self-devotion in her 
eyes. “As I sat at the opera last night down at Castle 
Garden, I thought of the frivolity of the thing and 
longed to be able to do what I consider my duty.” 

“But the young men about here, the gay gallants 
who ride beside you each day up Harlem Lane; like- 
wise the bucks of Bond Street, and the beaux of 
Broadway and Washington Square; how about them? 
Clara has confessed to me that they are- very engaging. 
And with your face and figure!” Martin turns his 
old eyes admiringly over the exquisite picture the 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


27 


young lady makes as she stands in graceful pose, one 
white hand upon a chair as if uncertain whether to 
stay or go, and notes that Miss Godfrey has developed 
very beautifully in the last few months. 

In addition to a patrician form, whose rounded out- 
lines are those of budding womanhood, the young 
lady’s face has in its blossoming maturity become full 
of an exquisite soul that shines through her bright eyes 
right gloriously. She is dressed in the extreme of 
fashion of that day, a little Parisian bonnet on her 
brown hair, a white shawl of India crepe, the latest 
feminine fad, upon her graceful shoulders, and a be- 
flounced skirt whose fluffiness indicates the advent of 
the crinoline that a few years later is to startle, dismay 
and perhaps even allure civilized mankind. 

About this time Miss Godfrey looks at the check 
again, and being thoroughly womanly, apparently longs 
for shopping. She says : “If you don’t wish me any 
longer. I’ll go and tell Clara, and we will drive down to 
Mr. Stewart’s together. I shall have so much to buy.” 

“Don’t take too much. Transportation will be dif- 
ficult and the roads quagmires at this season in your 
future home.” 

“No, but I’ll take enough to make me very present- 
able to papa and ” 

“And Texan rangers,” chuckles the old gentleman. 
Then, as the girl turns to the door, he says suddenly : 
“One moment. You will have to go in the Belle of 
Georgia, which sails for New Orleans early next week. 
Mr. and Mrs. Rodney of Galveston, Texas, are passen- 
gers upon it. They are old friends of mine. I have 
already spoken to them. They have kindly consented 
to take charge of you. From Galveston Mr. Rodney, 
who is a merchant there, will arrange your transporta- 
tion to either Matagorda or Corpus Christi, where you 
will probably be met by your father.” 


28 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Corpus Christi? That’s where Taylor’s Army is 
now stationed. I know one of the officers in it, Mr. 
Pelham of the Dragoons. You recollect him at Sara- 
toga,” says Estrella excitedly. 

“Yes, but that’s one of the dangers that may come 
upon you. The minute Taylor’s Army moves for the 
Rio Grande, it means war with Mexico, and that I fear 
will happen very soon.” 

“Then the quicker I go, the sooner I’ll get to my 
father and avoid the dangers of Taylor’s Army. I’ll 
speak to Zelma. She will get to packing my trunks at 
once.” 

“She’d better get to packing her own, too.” 

Miss Godfrey is already at the entrance of the room, 
when, Mr. Martin’s remark catching her ear, she pauses 
and says shortly : “I — I had nearly forgotten Zelma,” 
then thinks a moment and continues : “Just a word 
about her.” She steps quickly to him, and, apparently 
dreading to be overheard, commences to whisper into 
the ear of the gentleman who is seated at his desk. 

To her the man of commerce listens for a moment, a 
look of astonishment spreading over his face. Then 
he utters a prolonged whistle and ejaculates: “By 
Tippecanoe, you’re an extravagant young lady,” medi- 
tates for a second or two, and dissentingly mutters: 
“That will be very inconvenient.” 

“Oh, please, please ! Mr. Martin, please give her the 
opportunity.” 

“Very well,” answers old Alexander. “It is difficult 
to refuse you anything, especially that you are going 
away. Do you think the girl will leave you?” 

“Ah, that I am very doubtful about,” whispers the 
young lady. “Zelma is devoted to me. Ever since my 
mother died, though she has acted as my maid, she has 
tried to be more than my mere servant. The parting 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


29 


will be as sad for me as for her. But you must give 
her the opportunity.” 

“Jupiter, and rob your father of ” 

“Hush !” cries Estrella, putting her fingers on his 
lips. “Promise!” 

“Very well, Miss Wendel Philips,” says the mer- 
chant. “Send her to me.” 

And Estrella having left him, Alexander Martin 
utters a short whistle and half laughs : “I wonder 
what my Southern correspondents would say to what 
I am going to do now. In fact, it is hardly honest to 
old Jim Godfrey himself.” Over this he goes into a 
glum meditation, which is broken in upon by a soft and 
sonorously musical voice saying: “My mistress tells 
me you wish to see me, Sir.” 

With a start he looks up and remarks : “Yes, Miss 
Godfrey is going to Texas, Zelma.” 

“I have already heard that. I am about to pack 
our trunks and get ready as soon as possible.” 

“You are going with her?” 

“Certainly. I — I could never leave her even if I had 
the option.” 

“You have that option now. You know what your 
station and condition will be when you reach Southern 
soil.” 

“The same as when I left it,” the soft voice answers, 
sadly. “I thoroughly understand, but still I cannot 
leave my loved mistress. Her mother took me a slave 
waif from Louisiana, and by her kindness made me 
happy, taught me to read and write, gave me the op- 
portunity to educate myself. When she died I prom- 
ised to remain with her child.” 

As she has been speaking, Mr. Martin has 
been looking at the young woman, for she is only 
some twenty-six or seven years of age. A pearly trans- 
parency of complexion indicates French Creole blood 


30 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


in her delicate face, but the soft languor of 'her 
dove-like eyes and the dash of brilliant color in her 
cheeks, betray perhaps the slightest tinge of Africa’s 
blood. Though this is scarcely perceptible in Zelma the 
octoroon, her appearance being that of considerable 
refinement and her speech educated. The material of 
her frock, a rich but plain black silk, indicates the 
indulgence and kindness of her mistress, but its de- 
sign and cut suggest her station. Without orna- 
ment or trimming it fits glove-like her delicate 
yet .Southernly voluptuous figure to the slight waist 
and from there falls into a skirt that is cut to sou- 
brette length, disclosing to general observation very 
handsome ankles clothed in tight white Balbriggan 
stockings and pretty feet shod in plain black slippers. 

A white maid’s cap is perched upon her glossy, 
banded hair, and a maid’s white apron brought high 
upon the corsage of her dress slightly conceals the 
rounded contours of her figure as it floats in immac- 
ulate whiteness down upon the black skirt. 

Her dreamy eyes at times light with those gleams 
that show the slumbering passion with which a drop 
of torrid blood nearly always fires colder Caucasian 
streams; though her arms bare to the elbows for the 
convenience of service in her mistress’s chamber are 
beautifully moulded and of a dazzling, almost ivory, 
whiteness. 

“Nevertheless, you have the opportunity. A ticket 
for the English steamer and proper funds will be 
placed quietly in your hands,’’ mutters Martin. “It is 
rather curious that I who have sometimes been ac- 
cused of having slave ships among my various ven- 
tures should do this abolition act. But you must be 
aware with your appearance that in some European 
countries — France, for instance — you might have a bet- 
ter station than the servile one which must always be 


THE SPY COMPANY. 3 1 

yours in this country, and in the South, if you return 
to it, means your absolute slavery.” 

“I — 1 have thought of all these things, Sir,” replies 
the young woman ; “I have had many opportunities 
to run away, but I love Miss Estrella. I cannot let 
her go alone to that far country. I know she will 
be kind to me as she always has been.” A curious 
searching look flies into the octoroon’s eyes. “What 
put this idea of defrauding her of my services into your 
head?” she queries anxiously. 

“She. Her generous heart! Estrella wishes for 
your happiness!” answers the merchant. 

“Still she cannot wish to leave me !” The girl’s eyes 
grow troubled. Hearing a loved step in the hall- 
way, she runs out and cries: “Miss Estrella, please 
come here to me.” And Miss Godfrey, dressed for 
the carriage, coming in, Zelma says to her timidly in 
wounded voice: “You — you wish to part with me? 
What have I done to displease you?” 

“Nothing, dear Zelma!” answers her mistress. 
“Only I want to give you a chance in life. In the 
South you will be a slave.” 

“Yes, but under your protection, dear mistress, no 
harm can come to me. I must keep the promise I 
have made your mother. It was her wish. Don’t 
send me from you when you will need me in that 
barbarous country.” 

“My mother’s wish,” echoes Estrella, quite tenderly. 
To Martin, she adds : “Please write a paper of manu- 
mission for Zelma. I’ll sign it.” 

“Impossible,” replies the merchant. “This girl is 
your father’s slave, not yours.” 

“Under these circumstances,” remarks Miss God- 
frey, “do you still wish to come with me, Zelma?” 

“Yes, dear mistress,” answers the bond-maid, devo- 
tion in her eyes. 


32 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Then come !” Probably to conceal her emotion, for 
she has been deeply moved, the young lady passes from 
the room. 

Her maid would follow her, but Martin calls her 
back. He says: “A word with you,” and gives her 
some explanation of the preparations it will be neces- 
sary to make for her mistress for her voyage, adding 
to this : “I shall write to Mr. Godfrey an explanation 
of your devotion to his daughter and the reason you 
have accompanied her. Doubtless it will procure you 
every consideration at her father’s hands.” 

“Thank you. Sir,” answers Zelma gratefully, and 
courtesying, respectfully stands waiting for his permis- 
sion to leave the room. 

But Martin takes out a cigar abstractedly, lights it 
and puffs meditatively for a few moments. Then he 
says tersely : “Do you think, Zelma, Mr. Godfrey ever 
knew his wife bought you in Louisiana after the death 
of the maid she had brought with her from Texas?” 

“Yes, Sir, I know he did,” answers the young 
woman eagerly, “I remember Mrs. Godfrey saying that 
he wrote in a letter : ‘Tell Zelma when I come to New 
York if she is devoted to you and baby and wants to 
marry. I’ll give her her freedom.’ ” 

“Humph; and after that?” 

“After that my master never wrote anything about 
me. But that was after he changed so, after he had 
been wounded in the fight at Rock Springs.” 

“Changed so? Oh, yes, you mean his writing.” 

“No, Sir, not exactly. I think his letters were differ- 
ent in spirit or sentiment after that to Mrs. Godfrey. 
I know they seemed to trouble her. After receiving 
one, she often sighed. Though of course she didn’t 
make me her confidant, I imagine she thought her 
husband didn’t love her as he had before. Sometimes 
I think the sadness caused by these letters rather has- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


33 


teiied her death. You do not believe Mr. Godfrey's 
wound can have affected his head?” asks the young 
woman anxiously. 

“Not from his letters,” answers the merchant sharp- 
ly; “there's as good logical business in them as any 
I ever read. You can go, Zelnia. Remember to take 
good care of your young mistress on the voyage.” As 
the graceful young woman leaves the room, Martin 
glances after her, and thinks : “Curious, Jim Godfrey 
doesn’t remember he owns such a likely piece of prop- 
erty. Anyway, I’m glad the girl’s going. It would 
have been a great inconvenience sending Estrella with- 
out her maid, besides an infernal robbery of Jim 
Godfrey of a very marketable article worth at least a 
couple of thousand dollars on the auction block of the 
Rotunda in the St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans.” 

Commercial men had some curious ideas of prop- 
erty in those days, and the New York merchant was 
simply voicing them. 

He looks at some letters on the desk in front of him 
bearing the Galveston post-mark, and thinks grimly : 
“From his correspondence I don’t imagine Jim God- 
frey would take kindly to loss of property. Still he 
never mentions the girl Zelma in his letters, and he 
keeps a pretty good tag on all his other chattels. Can 
it be that he has forgotten his wife’s purchase in New 
Orleans ?” 

Here the cigar drops from the merchant’s hands. 
He springs up hurriedly, runs out into the street and 
buys a paper ; for a newsboy is calling out ; “Extra 
Herald! Great news! War in prospect ! The Presi- 
dent has ordered the Army of Texas to advance and 
take possession of the Rio Grande frontier ! Will the 
Greasers stand this?” 

“No,” mutters Martin to himself, “I’ll be hanged 
if the Greasers stand this. This means a war with 
Mexico certain as there’s a potato famine in Ireland !” 


34 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE CAPTAIN OF TEXAN RANGERS. 

A dim misty morning early in March. The three 
trees, which marked the Galveston Harbor of 1846, 
are growing indistinct from the deck of the vessel, as 
the steamer City of Mobile, a roomy but light draught 
craft, suitable to the shallow bays and lagoons of the 
Texan coast, is paddling over the soft swells of the Gulf 
of Mexico. She is ladened to her bearings with sup- 
plies for General Taylor’s army. Her forward deck 
is littered by cases of ammunition, boxes of shells, 
grape-shot and cannister. Cavalry saddles and casks 
of commissary bacon and United States salt beef are 
mixed with a lot of savage government mules, stabled 
in the bow, a few ambulances and Conestoga wagons 
being arranged about the beasts to keep them from 
stampeding. The steerage is crowded with the usual 
underling riff-rai¥ of an army, sutlers’ boys, teamsters, 
canteen-men and camp followers. 

Aft in the cabins, however, congregate commissary 
officers accompanying the army’s supplies of forage 
and provisions, two or three horse dealers, who have 
contracts for government mounts, and a scattering of 
diamond-pinned, white-shirted, egg-nog and mint julep 
drinking gamblers, who will officiate with Uncle Sam’s 
soldiers on pay-day. 

Naturally such a vessel bears very few females, 
though several lights-o’-love from New Orleans and a 
couple of well rouged Mobile nymphs are proceeding 
to Corpus Christi, where about the camp of the Ameri- 
can army has grown up a shanty town, which harbors 
those who prey upon the soldier as well as those who 
prey upon the Government. 

Near the stern of this steamer is seated Miss God- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


35 


frey, her bright eyes sometimes fixed on receding Gal- 
veston and now and again turned inboard with a 
rather perturbed expression on her pretty features. 
She notices the incongruous crowd upon the decks, the 
rough men and rouged women whose careless language 
sometimes makes the blood suffuse her face and com- 
pels her to turn her eyes again upon the sandy waters 
dotted with barrel buoys that locate the narrow channel 
over the Galveston bar. 

Though she is unaccompanied, Americans surround 
her. This gives the unchaperoned girl — for she has 
left kind hearted Mrs. Rodney behind her in the re- 
treating city — not only respect but privacy. Not one 
of the free-and-easy men upon the deck says a word 
to her or even glances unguardedly at her, though she 
is the prettiest thing upon the steamer. Even the 
flashily dressed, smooth mannered gamblers from the 
Mississippi river, who are going down to Corpus 
Christi to see what they can do at faro and poker with 
the dashing officers of Taylor’s army, or better still to 
fleece Government contractors with their purses full on 
United States army contracts, though they cannot help 
admiring the very stylish and beautiful young lady, 
would no more approach her with a light word or at- 
tempted conversation than they would the wife of the 
President or the Queen of England. 

Miss Godfrey’s immunity, however, does not include 
Zelma, her maid. The slight drop of color in her 
blood, scarcely observable except by eyes accustomed 
to discover it, has made Estrella’s handsome octoroon 
the subject not only of careless comments, but to these 
have been added some rather pointed personal addresses 
from “Yazoo Sam,” as smooth tongued and deadly a 
gambler as ever handled poker chips. 

These attentions coming under her mistress’s obser- 
vation, Miss Godfrey, calling the young woman to her, 


36 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


says: “Zelma, for this portion of the voyage I can 
dispense with your personal attendance on deck. You 
had better remain in your stateroom.” 

The red blood comes hotly into her attendant’s face 
and tears into her soft dark eyes, and she pouts quite 
mutinously. 

“Don’t misunderstand me,” goes on her mis- 
tress, impulsively. “It is not reproof, Zelma; it is 
only to save you from insult. But you must obey me.” 

With this the octoroon dejectedly, thinking of Mr. 
Yazoo Sam’s handsome face and attractive manner, 
goes to her cabin feeling with the ardor of her one 
drop of African blood that even for her own good it 
is very hard to be deprived of the subtle wooing of 
the Knight of the Faro Table. 

Left by herself, Miss Godfrey seated on the vessel’s 
deck grows gloomy; she is so entirely alone; the so- 
cial ethics of the country she is now in forbidding her 
making a companion of the girl she has with her. 

Her journey from New York to New Orleans under 
the care of Mr. and Mrs. Rodney had been a very 
pleasant one. Even from there to Galveston on the 
City of Mobile she had had the companionship of sev- 
eral ladies journeying to join their husbands who were 
merchants in Galveston or Houston. 

But now the vessel, turned down the coast, is steam- 
ing towards the Debatable Land, where the wildness 
of the prairie is made more dangerous by the outrages 
of guerrilla warfare, where Texan Rangers battle with 
Mexican banditti, and the Comanche Indian, now that 
it is spring time, is getting ready to descend from the 
Pecos Mountains and the Llano Estacado upon the 
fertile plains of Bexar and the valley of the San An- 
tonio, adding to the horrors of partisan contest the raid 
of the predatory savage. 

The vessel has already made the offing ; the pilot has 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


37 


been dispatched to the shore, when the quick tooting of 
the steamer’s whistle and the sudden pause of her 
walking-beam makes Miss Godfrey look towards the 
bow. Another vessel, apparently disabled, as she is 
traveling under one wheel, very slowly, is passing them, 
and signals are being exchanged. 

Apparently in response to these, the City of Mobile 
remains motionless upon the lazy swell of the gulf. 
Her paddles do not revolve again until a tugboat is 
seen steaming out from Galveston to tow the disabled 
ship into the harbor. 

Then Miss Godfrey’s vessel steams southward along 
die low gulf coast of Texas headed for Corpus Christi, 
some two hundred miles away, where Uncle Sam’s 
soldiers are gathered together, theoretically to occupy 
and protect Texan soil, but really to be ready to take 
the initiative and march for the Rio Grande at the first 
signal from Washington. 

As Estrella sits gazing at the shore she would be as 
gloomy as its low swamps with their moss-grown cy- 
press trees, were not in the girl’s mind the happy 
thought : “Every revolution of the paddle wheels 
brings me nearer to my father. To-morrow morning 
Corpus Christi ! To-morrow morning, perhaps he will 
meet me! To-morrow morning, I am in his loved 
arms !” Her face grows brighf as the tropic sun that 
is now rising, and her eyes as brilliant as the sea now 
that the mists of the morning are driven from its blue 
waters. 

Into her revery steps Captain McGowan, the most 
genial skipper who sailed the Gulf of Mexico. Those 
who travelled the California trip in the Fifties remem- 
ber McGowan. In white duck from “keel to kelsen,” 
as he expresses it, he looks as immaculate “as a tltou- 
sand bale Louisiana planter.” 

In answer to the young lady’s inquiries — they have 


38 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


become quite friends in the two days from New Or- 
leans to Galveston — the skipper tells her that the vessel 
that has passed them is the Paducah of the same line 
bound up; that she has broken her shaft and is two 
days behind her schedule time. 

‘'Oh, goodness,” cries Estrella anxiously. ''There 
may be a letter on board of her from my father. You 
know I am going to Corpus Christi to meet papa. 
From there he will take me up to his hacienda. Live 
Oaks.” 

"Yes, through a country with land pirates at every 
turn,” mutters McGowan. Then he continues earn- 
estly: "My dear young lady, I have been thinking 
about you ever since you came on board again at Gal- 
veston. You had better let me keep you on my ship at 
Corpus Christi, and when I sail take you back with me. 
The land you’re going to isn’t fit for human beings, 
let alone a delicate girl like you.” 

"That will be impossible! I have come here to see 
my father ; to be by his side in his old age. My loved 
father is waiting for me !” cries the girl devotedly. 

"Well, love will make women go anywhere. There 
are a few young officers’ wives even now down at Cor- 
pus Christi, who want the last kiss of their boy husbands 
before they bid them good-bye for the campaign, per- 
haps the last they will ever give ’em,” replies the skipper 
moodily. "But in this matter, since you are determined 
to land. Miss Godfrey, permit me as commander of 
this craft, to take a liberty.” 

"Certainly, Captain. I know anything you do will 
be for my good.” Estrella looks at him with grateful 
eyes. 

"Then,” replies the seaman, "heave anchor here. 
I’ll join you in a minute.” 

A few moments later he i‘eturns accompanied by a 
gentleman, and says: "Miss Godfrey, permit me to 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


39 


introduce to you Captain Hampton. There’s no man 
better fitted to put you safely in your dad’s arms.” 

“Captain Hampton!” ejaculates the girl, her eyes 

growing big. “Not the ” Rising, she is about to 

continue excitedly, when noticing the almost boyish 
young fellow who is standing, sombrero in hand, before 
her, she suddenly checks herself with a slightly em- 
barrassed laugh and responds to the polite yet modest 
bow of the gentleman before her. 

“I’ll leave you to make his acquaintance,” says Mc- 
Gowan cheerily. “Seasickness is about the only thing 
that ever downed Hampton. He’s no great shakes on 
shipboard, and made the voyage from New Orleans 
with us to Galveston between blankets. But on 
land he is a screamer.” 

“This salt water business for a day or two made me 
feel about as worthless as if I had been scalped,” re- 
marks the young man diffidently. “However, I’m in 
the saddle again. Noticing that you are alone on the 
boat,” he continues in easier tone, “I have taken the 
liberty of asking Captain McGowan to introduce me. 
He tells me you insist on venturing to visit your father 
up in Bexar County. Can I take the greater liberty of 
asking your plans to get there ?” 

“Certainly,” replies the young lady gratefully. “At 
Corpus Christi, I am directed to go to the branch office 
of Martin, Best & Co. There I hope to meet my father, 
who will take me with him up to his rancho of Live 
Oaks. It’s above the Aranzas.” 

“Ah, yes, on Atascosa Creek near the Nueces, where 
cattle thieves, Mexican smugglers and sometimes 
Comanches ride.” The young man reflectively chews 
a straw she notices he has in his mouth, and adds : “I 
have not seen your father for the last few years. 
You — you’ll excuse me, Miss, but Jim Godfrey can 
hardly be right in his mind to think of taking a delicate 


40 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


girl like you to such a place now that a general war 
with Mexico is about to break out upon the whole bor- 
der.” 

“True,” replies Miss Godfrey, concern in her voice, 
“Mr. Martin, his New York agent, told me ever since 
the fight at Rock Springs my father’s letters indicate 
he has changed very much, but still Mr. Martin always 
said they were as full of horse sense as if he were Gen- 
eral Sam Houston himself. You — you’ve seen my 
father. Tell me, was he not always rational ?” 

“Yes, after he recovered from that fight at Rock 
Springs,” returns Hampton, “more than rational, long- 
headed, astute and energetic. Still, of course, a des- 
perate scrimmage like that one, together with what he 
went through afterwards, may have told upon him 
eventually.” 

“You — you know the details of that awful fight, 
where my father was the only one who escaped !” says 
Estrella very eagerly. “Papa never wrote mother 
much about it.” 

“That was a good while ago,” returns Hampton, 
“and there were so many little brushes just before our 
big fights at Alamo and Goliad and San Jacinto that 
one more or less didn’t count for much. Your father 
escaped alive. At that time there were a good many 
skirmishes in which everybody was rubbed out.” As 
if to turn Miss Godfrey’s mind from this subject, he 
glances at the very fashionable garments of the young 
lady and observes rather abruptly: “From your ap- 
pearance, you’ve been away from Texas for some time, 
I reckon?” 

“Yes, ever since I was three years of age. I have 
never seen my father to remember him.” Her voice is 
very eager as she asks : “Tell me, do I look like him ?” 

“Not a bit !” answers the Captain decidedly. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


41 

‘‘I don’t look like my father!” pouts the girl disap- 
pointedly. 

“But still you do look like someone Fve seen,” re- 
turns the Texan meditatively. His piercing eyes re- 
gard Miss Godfrey so searchingly that to break away 
from the subject, she goes into a rambling record of 
her life; how her father had gone to Texas in 1824, 
having received, as an impresario, an immense grant of 
land from the Mexican Government on condition that 
he furnish it with a hundred settlers. This contract he 
had not been able to complete until 1834, though he had 
long before that time located his hacienda on the fertile 
lands between the Atascosa Creek and San Antonio 
River. That while making this settlement, her little 
sister, Sybil, two years younger than she, had been 
stolen and carried away either by Mexican bandits or 
Comanche Indians. 

“Yes, such things have been too common about 
here,” returns the Texan. “Though it may have 
Lippians and Wacos, those savages then hadn’t been 
taught to be good Indians by our Kentucky rifles.” 

“Sometimes,” continues Estrella, “I imagine, though 
he never mentioned it in his letters, it is some wild 
hope of finding my sister that has kept my father all 
these years from visiting New York and taking me 
in his arms.” 

Noting how the girl’s face lights up as she says this, 
Hampton suggests: “You seem so eager to see him, 
permit me to expedite the meeting by getting you early 
on shore to-morrow morning and taking you to the of- 
fice of Martin, Best & Co.” 

“Thank you,” replies the girl unaffectedly, “I shall 
be more than pleased if a friend of Captain McGowan 
will be kind enough to see me that far upon the way.” 

As they have been talking, Estrella has been looking 
over the gentleman whose escort she has accepted and 


42 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


is pleased with him, though she thinks he is rather 
young to be of any great weight or importance in this 
rough and tumble Western world. 

He has a boy’s face, clean cut and Roman, lighted by 
gray-blue eyes, that would seem cold did they not 
sparkle enthusiastically as they gaze on her; a sym- 
metrical figure, though rather gaunt and wiry from 
the athletics of the prairie, exceedingly small feet and 
hands. Dressed in a black long-skirted frock coat, the 
typical Southern low-collared vest and an immaculately 
white shirt, with trousers well spread out over his high 
Wellington boots, a Mexican sombrero shading his 
clean shaven face, the young man’s air would be that 
of a rather bashful farm lad addressing a society 
beauty, did not a curious courtesy of manner add a 
quiet and almost impressive dignity to his bearing. 

“Thank you,” he replies simply. “You have made 
me very happy in trusting yourself so far to me. I 
think even on this boat I may be of some little assist- 
ance to you.” 

“Indeed, how ?” asks the young lady, astonished. 

“I noticed that you seemed inconvenienced sitting on 
deck this morning without the attendance of your maid 
to fan you and make you comfortable. If you will 
permit me, I will speak to a certain gentleman, and I 
think after that you can tell your girl that she can come 
on deck.” 

“Oh, please don’t make any trouble.” 

“There will be no trouble. I will simply say to Mr. 
Yazoo Sam that any attention to her maid annoys Miss 
Godfrey. That will, I think, settle it.” 

“But please don’t place yourself in danger,” whispers 
the girl in a frightened tone. “These Mississippi 
gamblers, I believe, are ” 

“Are rather slick with the pistol,” he smiles coldly. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 43 

“Yes, blit other people about here are also quick on the 
trigger.” 

“Yes, I suppose they have to be to live,” she shud- 
ders; then to change the subject remarks in rather 
embarrassed tone : “When first Captain McGowan 
mentioned your name as Hampton, do you know I 
thought, till I noticed how boyish you were, that he 
was perhaps introducing the celebrated Captain Sharpe 
Selby Hampton of Hays’s Texan Rangers, the noted 
frontiersman and Indian fighter, who even as a boy 
fought at San Jacinto. Are you a relative of his?” 

“Yes, I’m — I’m a connection,” stammers the young 
man very nervously. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll — Til 
execute the little mission I have given myself, so that 
your girl can come on deck.” 

He hurriedly leaves her, and Estrella, watching him 
anxiously, sees him step to three or four gentlemen of 
the dice box and card table who are lounging amidships 
and they all lift their hats to him. He says a few quiet 
words, and Mr. Yazoo Sam answers, his manner im- 
plying dissent or refusal. 

Then the girl starts astounded. The cold eyes of 
this bashful boy gleam with a peculiar steely glint that 
frightens her; a look flies into his face that awes her. 
She seems to be in the presence of death. Half a 
dozen cold words apparently issue slowly from his 
thin chiseled lips, and the gambler shrinks from him ; 
then shrugging his shoulders deprecatingly, bows and 
responds in louder tone : “No offence meant and no 
harm done, we hope. Captain. To prove it, let’s 
liquor !” With this they all go forward, apparently to 
the bar-room of the steamer that is doing a great busi- 
ness. 

A few minutes after Miss Godfrey steps to the state- 
room and tells Zelma that she can come on deck with- 
out fear of annoyance. This proves to be so. Mr. 


44 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Yazoo Sam does not address her maid, and the rest of 
the morning passes quite pleasantly, Miss Godfrey 
making herself acquainted with the “Indian Question” 
in one of Cooper’s novels. 

At two o’clock Captain McGowan makes his ap- 
pearance at her side and suggests : “With your per- 
mission, young lady. I’ll take you in to dinner.” 

Entering the cabin, she finds the skipper has given 
her retirement at his own table, only a sedate army 
contractor and two commissariat officers in uniform 
being of the party, with the addition of the gentleman 
whose acquaintance she has made in the morning. He 
shortly after comes in and seats himself on McGowan’s 
other hand. 

Towards the end of the meal the contractor and 
commissary men, being about to leave the table to light 
their cigars on deck, the skipper turning to Hampton, 
says : Hope you and this young lady have had a pleas- 
ant chat together.” 

“Decidedly !” answers the gentleman enthusiastically. 
Miss Godfrey was kind enough to tell me about the 
great city of New York, life at Saratoga Springs, and 
give me some description of the high-fly civilization, 
upon the trail of which I got at New Orleans.” 

“You’ve been up at the Crescent City, Captain?” re- 
marks one of the commissary officers, as he rises from 
his chair. 

“Yes, getting equipment for the boys,” replies Hamp- 
ton, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. “You know 
we expect to move very shortly.” 

“Yes, when I was last at Corpus Christi, Ben Mc- 
Cullogh told me that you were going to take over Sam 
Walker’s company,” remarks the army man. “Also 
that Colonel Hays had written to you in New Orleans 
telling you to leave all extra equipment at Corpus 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


45 


Christi and the regiment would get it when they reach 
there.” 

“By George, that looks as if General Taylor was 
about to move at once,” interjects McGowan. 

“Sam Walker’s becoming its lieutenant colonel 
will probably give you the vacant majority in the Texas 
regiment, won’t it, Captain Hampton ?” asks the army 
contractor. 

“Can’t exactly be sure of that,” replies the young fel- 
low. “Some people think I’m too young.” Here his 
glance happens to catch the young lady seated at Mc- 
Gowan’s side, her face, made red yet bewitching by 
embarrassment, directed at some raisins upon her plate. 
He mutters blushingly : “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ll 
accept your invitation and join you in a cigar,” and 
hurriedly leaves the cabin ahead of the commissariat 
men. 

“What’s the matter with Sharpe Hampton?” queries 
McGowan of his pretty charge. “He always was a 
bashful fellow, but to-day he seems to excel himself. 
He accepted those army chaps’ cigars when they didn’t 
offer them.” 

“I’m afraid,” says Miss Godfrey, still studying the 
raisins on her plate, “that Captain Hampton is perhaps 
displeased with me. I made a very embarrassing and 
foolish contretemps. I told him I had nearly mis- 
taken him for the celebrated Captain Sharpe Hampton, 
but that of course he was too young.” Then she 
breaks out, her eyes growing big : “Is that boy really 
the great frontiersman, the friend of the celebrated 
Colonel Jack Hays of the Texas Rangers, and Ben Mc- 
Cullogh, and the hero"6f half a hundred hand to hand 
encounters with Mexicans and Indians?” 

“Yes, that’s Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton,” re- 
plies the skipper. To this he adds in low chuckle: 
“By Jove, you’ve nrobably wounded Sharpe Hampton 


46 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


more savagely than half a dozen regiments of Greasers 
could. The only thing he is touchy upon is his youth- 
ful appearance.’’ 

“But isn’t he a boy?” 

“Well, he’s twenty-six. About the age Napoleon 
fought his great Italian campaigns, I believe. And be- 
tween you and me, Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton, 
though he’s as modest as he is brave, is able enough 
and experienced enough to take care of anything in the 
fighting line, from grizzly bars to Comanche Indians ; 
though in other respects he is a very timid young fel- 
low, as you’ve doubtless seen. Blushed to the eyes, 
didn’t he, as he addressed you? Come,” the seaman 
says cheerfully, ‘T’ll make your peace with him. No- 
body could be very angry with you/’ Leading the 
young lady on deck, he finds the young Texan medi- 
tatively smoking a cigar. 

‘T see I’ve got to make this introduction over 
again,” remarks McGowan. “Miss Godfrey, this is 
really Captain Sharpe Selby Hampton, the comrade of 
Jack Hays and Ben McCullogh, the hero of half a hun- 
dred skirmishes, the boy who with ‘Deaf Smith' 
destroyed the bridge at San Jacinto.” 

“Now quit, McGowan,” says the young man, un- 
easily, tossing his cigar away, his face growing red not- 
withstanding its tan. 

“The Greaser killer, the Injun scalper!” guffaws the 
jovial seadog. 

“Please hold your horses !” says Hampton. “I never 
put my knife about an Indian’s top-knot, though I’ve 
been tempted to. What man in Texas hasn’t? But 
you’ll frighten Miss Godfrey ; frighten her of me, when 
— when I had hoped to be perhaps of some little ser- 
vice to her.” 

“Oh, that you have already been!” cries the girl 
gratefully. “The attendance of my maid has been very 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


47 


useful to me." She glances at the Texan Ranger aiid 
sees something in his countenance that makes her turn 
her eyes diffidently over the blue waves gliding by the 
steamer’s side. 

"By Jingo, you’re the bashful one now, Miss 
Estrella," laughs McGowan, ‘‘but I must relieve my 
first officer and give him a chance for dinner." 

The commander of the boat walks forward leaving 
Miss Godfrey still gazing out upon the waters of the 
Gulf. 

“You look all — all fired warm," stammers the Texan 
nervously. “Let me get your girl to come and fan 
you." 

“Pooh, I don’t need to be fanned all the time," laughs 
the young lady. “Please place a steamer chair for 
me. Then will you tell me something of the land of 
my birth that I am visiting but which I know so little 
about ?" 

“Will mustangs kick?" replies Hampton eagerly, 
and though lacking in experience, he shows the instinct 
of a cavalier by making Miss Godfrey very comfort- 
able. Seated beside her, and perhaps inspired by her 
exquisite face or by his subject, for the land of Texas 
seems dear to him, the young man tells his lovely vis-a- 
vis the beauties of the Lone Star State, describing the 
wave-like plains green with the richest grasses and 
covered with myriads of buffalo. From this he runs 
into a picture of the most lovely thing in all that 
southern country, the flower prairie, that sea of dazzling 
colors dotted here and there with mottes of timber 
that look like green islands in a gorgeous ocean. He 
explains that these are often so vast in extent that only 
the tried frontiersmen dare attempt to cross them with- 
out compass, for the inexperienced get lost upon them, 
and traveling in circles mid the flowery billows, become 
as helpless as if alone in an open boat upon the bound- 


48 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


less ocean, sinking down to die of thirst, the odors of a 
million petals regaling their expiring nostrils and their 
dying ears soothed with the songs of innumerable hum- 
ming birds and orange winged orioles. Enthusing over 
the wonderful game that covers this fair land, he tells 
his listener of hunting adventures with buffalo, cougars 
and also the savage jaguar of Southern Texas. 

During this Miss Godfrey notices that he is only elo- 
quent upon the pleasant things of the country she is 
visiting ; that he says naught of the frightful combats 
by men over this beautiful land, of the rattlesnakes that 
lie coiled beneath its wild flowers, or of the merciless 
Indians that raid its green prairies with lance and 
scalping knife. 

But in the midst of his oration, the Captain suddenly 
starts and says disconcertedly : “Thunder, that’s the 
gong for supper.” 

“Yes, the time has passed very rapidly and very 
pleasantly, hasn’t it?” remarks the girl. To this she 
adds as she rises : “Thank you for trying to make me 
like Texas. You’ve even made death in its flower 
prairies poetic.” 

“Well, yes,” he replies uneasily, “I love my State 
and I want you to like it also. It’s your State too.” 

But his disciple in frontier instruction going off to 
her cabin, he stands gazing after her graceful figure. 
To himself he mutters sheepishly : “That’s the first 
occasion I ever jabbered poetic nothings.” 

Soon after pacing the deck and attempting philo- 
sophy by the aid of a cigar, he is joined by the genial 
skipper of the City of Mobile. “I hope you will be 
able to assist the young lady when she lands,” remarks 
McGowan, “down in that rutty, muddy, cut-throat 
hole, Corpus Christi, to-morrow morning.” 

“Believe me, I shall do what I can for her,” responds 
the Texan. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


49 


“You found her somewhat like her father, I pre- 
sume suggests the skipper. 

“No more than a canary bird is like a blue jay, Fm 
very happy to say,” is Hampton’s reply. “For between 
ourselves, Jim Godfrey has the reputation of being a 
very onery cuss all over Southern Texas, working his 
niggers to death and skinning everybody who has 
dealings with him. But his daughter — whew ! As 
the Arkansas traveler said, ‘she is chicken fixings.’ ” 
The Ranger’s eyes are very enthusiastic. 

“Oh, so you do think well of my protege?” 

“Well, I thought enough of her two or three hours 
ago to risk my life by telling Yazoo Sam, who they say 
shoots mighty straight, that if he didn’t quit sparking 
Miss Godfrey’s yaller gal. I’d put daylight through him 
to-morrow morning as soon as we landed,” answers the 
young man. “You see it annoyed Miss Godfrey just a 
leetle and I couldn’t stand that. No Siree! Not by 
Texas!” 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE FIGHT FOR THE DESERT SPRING. 

In 1846 on an ocean steamer on the Gulf Coast, what 
was called “supper” was nearly always a pleasant 
meal. This evening the breeze was blowing softly 
through the open transoms of the City of Mobile, the 
bright lights of the salon made the cabin cheerful, and 
the languid splash of the waters outside under the 
paddles of the boat seemed to be a pleasant lullaby. 

The menu was excellent, but Miss Godfrey 
noticed that the Captain of the Texan Rangers, 
who came in considerably after she did and sat 
opposite her, said very little and ate perhaps less. 


50 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


So much so, that McGowan, who announces that they 
will be in Corpus Christi early in the morning, re- 
marks “Still seasick, eh. Captain Hampton? You 
have too delicate a stomach for salt water cooking. 
You should take a lesson in gastronomy iroiu this 
young lady at my right hand. She can handle a knife 
and fork in a gale of wind.” This is quite true. Miss 
Godfrey somehow is in excellent spirits this evening 
and is doing full justice to a very good meal. 

“No romance in her appetite,” continues the skipper 
cheerily. Turning to his fair protege, he suggests : 
“Have another plate of waffles, won’t you?” 

“Thank you,” laughs Estrella. “After that can I 
support your eulogy of my appetite with some of that 
buffalo tongue in front of you ?” 

“With pleasure. This evening Hampton will ex- 
plain to you how they shoot these critters out on the 
plains.” 

“I think I’ve told you that already,” responds the 
Texan, glancing across the table, but the bright eyes 
of his exquisite vis-a-vis make him seek his plate again, 
though they don’t increase his appetite. 

For some occult reason the more beautiful Miss God- 
frey appears to him, the gloomier and more distrait this 
Captain of Rangers. Accustomed to the dangers of 
partisan warfare with savage enemies, he seems to be 
almost afraid of gazing on the ethereal loveliness of 
the lady, which this evening is pronounced enough to 
conquer more blase gentlemen than the young fellow 
seated opposite to her. Though extremely cool-head- 
ed when facing almost inevitable death, Sharpe has 
grown very warm-blooded in encountering the dash- 
ing light artillery of Estrella’s brown eyes. This even- 
ing he thinks Miss Godfrey is beautiful enough to con- 
quer anything that walks. 

Perhaps judging it is her last opportunity for some 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


51 


little time to wear the delicate garments of fashionable 
life, this summery evening Estrella is all in white, her 
perfectly formed shoulders and rounded arms gleaming 
like ivory beneath the sheer muslins of her corsage. 
Zelma has bound up her hair a la Greque, but artfully 
destroyed classic severity by permitting two or three 
ringlets to escape and dangle upon the snowy neck. 
This is not absolutely Attic style, but it suits Captain 
Hampton “down to the ground,” as he mentally ex- 
presses it. 

Noticing his almost rustic embarrassment, McGowan, 
who as a popular steamboat captain, has witnessed 
many salt water flirtations, mercilessly remarks : “Per- 
haps after dinner you will find something pleasanter 
than buffalo to chat about to Miss Godfrey. You 
know he has had some experience,” he continues to 
the young lady. “He is a little seasick now, but upon 
dry land, I am told, he is a frontier gallant, and you 
can bet it’s true. I never saw a fighter who wasn’t a 
lover.” 

“It isn’t quite fair. Captain, to jump on a sea- 
sick man,” returns Hampton. He rises uneasily and 
mutters: “In fact, I — I guess this cabin’s too hot for 
me. I’ll — I’ll go on deck and take a cigar.” 

A slight laugh, in which Estrella herself cannot help 
joining, hastens his abrupt exodus from the table. 

“That fellow,” chuckles the Captain, “is more danger- 
ous than he looks. Colonel Jack Hays, who’s traveled 
with me, tells me Hampton dances the fandango so 
well that the hombres in San Antonio snap their yellow 
teeth like castanets, and the senoritas down on the Rio 
Grande think he is the prettiest caballero who ever 
straddled a bucking mustang. You want to look out 
for him. Miss Godfrey.” 

“Ah, then you should not have placed me in his 
charge. Captain McGowan,” laughs Estrella, parrying 


52 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


liis suggestion with that woman’s tact which is given 
even to debutantes. “You must remember that I’ve 
only been out one season and am not accustomed to 
meet gentlemen who they say fight like Paladins.” 

“Oh, I’d risk you; its Sharpe I’m scared about,” 
answers the Captain. “Besides, soon as we get to 
Corpus Christi, that chap who is smoking his cigar on 
deck will have rivals. The dashing bucks of Taylor’s 
Army will be about you like bees round a honey tree.” 

To this the young lady doesn’t answer. It reminds 
her of young Pelham and the souvenir he had taken 
from her at Saratoga. She knows the lieutenant rides 
with May’s Dragoons ; that perhaps to-morrow she will 
see his handsome figure and earnest eyes. But as she 
steps on deck with McGowan she puts this from her 
mind with a careless : “Pshaw, he must have forgot- 
ten me long ago scouting on the plains.” 

As she and the skipper pace together the port side 
of the hurricane deck, the Texan strides the starboard 
side. Rather chewing his cigar than smoking it, 
he is pondering on a subject that disturbs him. 
Miss Godfrey is the first high!); accomplished and 
delicately bred Anglo-Saxon young lady he has ever 
met. Uncouth though comely trappers’ daughters 
he has seen quite often. With the semi-civilized 
beauties of the coquettish reho£o and floating nagiia 
that abound on the Mexican border, he has oft footed 
the cachucha to the disgust of their compatriots, but 
this Eastern belle with her cultivated graces of mind 
and body is something he has never met before. 
Though in his short and only visit to New Orleans, 
from which he is returning, he had looked at the 
Louisiana beauties, it had only been distantly from 
a seat in the opera house or theatre. Estrella’s very 
delicacy and refinement make him extremely diffident. 
He says to himself grimly : “Miss High Elyer doubt- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


53 


less thinks me a mixture of uncultured frontier lad and 
blood-thirsty bravo/’ but gazes earnestly across the 
deck at the delicate beauty that is almost fairylike in 
the moonlight. 

Catching a glance from the girl’s bright eyes, he 
recklessly tosses his cigar away and walks straight as 
the moth to the flame to Miss Godfrey, who has 
been left by McGowan seated on a steamer chair under 
the stern awning. 

With that curious abruptness common to bashful 
men he remarks : “I have been thinking about your 
father. Miss Godfrey.” 

“Oh, thank you for coming to talk to me about 
him,” replies the girl eagerly and cordially. “Tell me 
everything you know of him, Captain Hampton. You 
seemed this morning to rather avoid speaking of him.” 
Her delicate hand and her almost pleading eyes indicate 
the camp stool beside her. 

The next second he is seated quite close to her, say- 
ing earnestly : “Only because I hesitated to mention 
to you a scene in his life that must greatly affect his 
daughter. As a matter of fact, the only time I ever 
really was with Jim Godfrey for more than a passing 
hour was just after that extraordinary little Indian- 
Mexican skirmish, from which your father was the 
only one who escaped alive.” 

“Yes, the only one,” answers the girl, her voice 
quivering. “Tell me. You could not have been there. 
He was the only one who lived.” 

“Not there at the time, but mighty shortly after- 
wards,” answers the ranger ; “and if you do not think 
it will disturb your nerves too much, I will tell you 
about it as well as I am able. I was only a boy of fifteen 
then. But there are certain scenes that get branded 
upon a man’s memory. 

“Early in 1836, I, in company with a small band of 


54 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Texans, was sent to scout on the upper waters of the 
Guadaloupe. There were but few of us. Most of 
those who bore arms were getting ready on the lower 
San Antonio and about Goliad to meet the expected 
invasion of Santa Anna from Mexico. For in the pre- 
vious December, we had answered old Ben Milam’s 
cry and avenged his blood in storming San Antonio, 
and sending General Cos hustling across the Rio 
Grande to tell his master Santa Anna that he and fif- 
teen hundred Mexican regulars had been driven out of 
the chief town in Texas by some three hundred fron- 
tiersmen unaided by artillery and only armed with 
rifles, pistols and Arkansas toothpicks. 

“Almost as soon as Cos was squelched. Colonel 
Travis, who was in command at San Antonio, ordered 
some ten of us to patrol the sources of the Guada- 
loupe. He feared that some Mexican column might 
sneak in back of us from Chihuahua, and cut us ofif 
from the main Texan force which was all too slowly 
assembling at Gonzales. 

“For a few days we scouted upon and examined 
the head waters of that river reaching the tag end of 
those barren plains that in New Mexico are called 
the Llano Estacado and come down in Middle Texas 
almost to the Rio Grande. Though the country is 
not quite as barren there as it is further up, springs 
are mighty few and far between, and upon the sun- 
dried mesa getting enough water for man and beast 
is about as hard as trapping coyotes. 

“Our work had to be done very carefully for we 
were upon the borders of the Indian country and while 
we were looking for Mexicans, might be surprised 
and jumped on by Comanches. So we all kept our 
eyes mighty wide open. 

“One morning, just at the border of this bad land, 
Jake Littell and I came on, to our astonishment, among 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


55 


the pihon timber about the base of some outlying 
butes, a trail. Though the imprints were those of moc- 
casins, we knew that no Indian feet had made ’em ; 
because they turned outward. Tracking this for about 
an hour, we overtook a crazy white man dressed in 
store clothes. He was raving with delirium from the 
hot sun, his tongue black as a watermelon-seed from 
lack of water. 

“On seeing us, he uttered a shriek and fled from 
us. Being mounted, we rapidly overtook him, seized 
him, poured water down his throat and gave him the 
best succor possible out on the prairie. 

“After drinking our canteens dry, he revived suf- 
ficiently to tell us that he and a party of five others 
had had a brush with a band of Mexican volunteer 
cavalry somewhere to the south of us. 

“By this time, the balance of the command had 
overtaken us. ‘Greasers to the South !’ was passed 
along. We were not accustomed to count noses in 
those days, and we didn’t ask ‘how many?’ Taking 
the man with us, who was still at times so delirious 
we had to tie him on an extra pack mule, we started 
off on one of the most terrific jaunts I have ever 
ridden. Even in February, the vegetation was parched 
upon that arid plain. Of course we had taken 
the precaution to fill our -canteens when we left the 
last little creek that trickled down the escarpment to 
join the Guadaloupe, for we guessed water would be 
almighty scarce upon the Mesa. As we rode on, the 
burning sun over head seemed to blister us. It was 
the hottest winter day I have ever seen in Texas and 
would have been a broiler even in the middle of sum- 
mer. Not a breath of air was stirring over the arid 
table land ; and mighty soon our mustangs began to 
suffer. But stimulated by the hope of wiping out 
the rancheros, we travelled one whole day and 


56 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


part of the next. By this time we were beginning to 
think not of Mexican cavalry, but of water to keep us 
alive. Already two or three of the pack mules had 
given up and thrown themselves down upon the baked 
adobe soil to die. The veteran frontiersman, in com- 
mand of us, had a very gloomy look upon his gaunt 
visage as he rode along, chewing some tasajo to get a 
little saliva in his mouth. In fact, those of us who 
were not chewing jerked beef, were chewing bullets 
to keep our tongues from swelling till they choked us. 

“Just then a little breeze, the first that had fanned 
us, sprang up from the west. 

“Littell, who was riding beside me, chancing to 
gaze over the cactus plain, suddenly cried : ‘Golly, 
look at them mules that we’ve left behind us! Boys, 
we’re saved I’ For the two mules that had given up 
and were lying down, had staggered to their feet and 
were loping off towards the west, new life in them. 

“All animals have an instinct for water, but a mule 
can scent it farther than a buzzard can see a carcass. 
Littell knew this and he implored our captain to fol- 
low them. ‘I’ve seen ’em, boys, run seven hours clean 
off the trail and find water. For God’s sake, git after 
’em,’ he implored to our commander. So we tore helter 
skelter after the mules. 

“The Mexican cavalry might be south of us, but we 
were so thirsty we thought only that a spring might 
be within reach of us. 

“So our horses loped and staggered along for two 
hours when the mules ran plump into a spring of 
living water. I could no more have held my bronco 
from going into it than I could have held a cannon ball 
from one of those eighteen-pounder guns down at Cor- 
pus Christi. 

“As our mustangs sprang in we jumped off them, 
an/^ man and beast drank together like mad. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


57 


“I had scarce filled myself, and I think I took about 
a gallon, when Littell clapped me on the shoulder 
and whispered : ‘Sharpe, look ! See what’s about 
us.’ 

“Just then several of our men uttered hoarse cries. 
1 sprang up and saw that we had ridden into the scene 
of an almighty tough scrimmage, but had been so 
crazed for water we hadn’t noticed it. Dead men lay all 
about that spring, some in the uniforms of the Mexi- 
can lancers, some in the buckskin of the trapper, and 
one dressed in store clothes, though he wore high boots 
and leggings. 

“ ‘Ready, boys, Injuns!’ cried our leader. 

“ ‘Indians ? I don’t see any,’ I half laughed. Out 
on the plain there was no cover save a gully half a 
mile away, full of mesquite brush and prickly cactus. 

“ ‘Injuns, sure,’ said Littell. ‘Look, ye little green- 
horn. Every dead man lying around here. Greaser or 
American, has been scalped.' 

“Like a streak we were in the saddle and recon- 
noitred that plain mighty carefully, though we kept 
half a dozen men about the spring, for we knew 
that would be the vital point in a long fight. The 
crowd that had water must whip. 

“All our scouts returned in the course of an hour 
or two and said no Indians’ signs in sight, except the 
trail of a big Comanche war party that had apparently 
travelled out to the northwest, probably two days be- 
fore. 

“So we went to doing the Christian act by the 
dead Americans. The Greasers we left to their friends, 
the vultures. Though we examined the ground care- 
fully, and even the mesquite chaparral, not a sign of 
dead Indian could we find about. The four men — there 
were five Americans in all — were known to some of 
our command as buffalo hunters. The man in store 


58 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


clothes was utterly unknown to any of us. He was 
probably some mining prospector or speculator in 
lands, because the only things we could find in his 
pockets were two or three lumps of black stuff, the 
boys allowed must be coal, and a surveyor’s chain and 
compass. I suppose the varmints left them fearing 
the instruments were ‘Bad Medicin.’ Everything- else 
had been taken from him by the Indians except one 
of those little golden circles that I’ve seen on so many 
dead men’s breasts after a fight. The boys don’t like 
to look at them. Those who know what they mean 
never tell. Even tough old Littell turned his head 
away when he saw that golden sign on the dead man’s 
body.” 

“Is it like — like this one?” asks Miss Godfrey, pro- 
ducing the little circle which nearly two years before 
in Saratoga had perturbed the great United States 
Senator. 

“Exactly !” returns the Texan after he has examined 
it by the light coming from the open window of the 
cabin. “Where did you get this ?” he asks curiously. 

“It was one my mother brought with her from Texas. 
She said my father wore it when I was a little girl.” 

“Yes, many of those who have come to us from the 
United States have worn ’em/’ remarks Hampton. 
“Most people in Texas don't like to talk about ’em, 
but I reckon they are the sign of some great secret so- 
ciety, probably only political in its ends, certainly not 
criminal, for some of the bravest and noblest men who 
have fallen in battle for Texas have borne that sym- 
bol. 

“But to go on with my story,” he continues. “As 
we journeyed down the Guadalonpe, the man we 
had found in the butcs gradually got back his senses. 
During this, from the broken words he gave to us 
from time to time, I put up the combat around that 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


59 


Rock Springs — that’s what they call it now — about 
in this peculiar and weird way. 

“That spring of living water, twenty Mexican lan- 
cers, scouting from the direction of Eagle Pass and 
the Rio Grande, had taken possession of. The six 
Texans coming from the other way, their horses worn 
out by heat and thirst, themselves made desperate by 
want of water — had attacked. For apparently the 
fight had been made by the twenty Greasers to keep 
the six Americans from getting a taste of that spring. 
The combat had been hand to hand ; desperate, bloody. 
Pistols against lances, rifles against escopetas, and 
bowie knives against machetes. Our crowd had won, 
butchered the rancheros to a man though all of the 
Americans had been killed except the crazy fellow we 
were bringing back with us. But here’s the curious 
part of it. While this combat was going on, fifty Ind- 
ians in war paint, coming over the plain, had looked 
grimly at it until Greaser and white man had gone 
down together, and then had quietly ridden in and 
scalped the dead, made ready for their devilment. But 
by some trick of the frontier or act of Providence they 
had missed this one man who had flown before them 
and somehow escaped and got down into the butes 
where we had found him just in time to save his life. 

“This I figured out from the position of the bodies 
and accoutrements and a few wandering horses sad- 
dled and bridled that we found grazing near the spring. 

“As we returned down the Guadaloupe, gradually 
the man recovered his senses and became known to us 
by the papers on him ; so we took him back to where 
he belonged, the great hacienda of Live Oaks below San 
Antonio. Here a new horror put all his brains back in- 
to him, for we found the adobe buildings had been gut- 
ted by General Cos and his Greasers in his retreat, and 


6o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


every head of livestock and every nigger run off, and 
every man upon it massacred. There was no more 
life at the hacienda of Live Oaks than there had been 
life at the lone spring upon the mesa one hundred and 
fifty miles away, except a 'dog, the man called Pinto, 
who came to him and licked his hand. For the crazy 
demented fugitive we had picked up in the butes was 
Jim Godfrey — your father.” 

“I had guessed this,” whispers Estrella sadly. “How 
he must have suffered!” Then she continues in anx- 
ious tone : “You — you’re quite sure that his mind was 
not permanently affected in any way?’^ 

“Certainly,” returns the Captain decidedly. “Your 
dad’s very misfortunes seemed to give new life and 
energy to him. The moment he discovered everyone 
was dead about the plantation, that it had been entirely 
destroyed, the vigor of a man who will not be crushed 
seemed to come into him. Even while we rangers 
stood about the ruined hacienda, your father with in- 
domitable nerve, was already taking measures to build 
it up again. Without assistance, he dug up from a 
place where it had been concealed in the masonry of 
the building, a chest containing not only his business 
papers but a large quantity of money in United States 
gold. For a very little while, I think, he had an idea 
of taking this money and leaving the plantation and 
going back to the States, but that was only for an 
hour or two. Even when our scouts came in and re- 
ported that the Mexicans had run off every nigger 
and killed every white man on the plantation, and 
that there was not a living thing within forty miles 
of us except wild animals, your father had made up 
his mind to rebuild. I heard him say to Littell : ‘Five 
hundred thousand acres is a principality, why shouldn’t 
I stay and hold it?’ 


THE- SPY COMPANY. 


6i 


“Four years from that time, chancing to be on a scout 
on the Atascosa with Hays's Rangers, I visited Live 
Oaks. I found it rebuilt. A lot of new niggers pur- 
chased in Louisiana were at work in the fields. More 
white settlers brought from the States had joined your 
father. Determined not to have it destroyed again, 
Jim Godfrey had fortified the rancho and armed it. 
In proof of this to-day the Hacienda of Live Oaks is 
the only inhabited station between San Antonio and 
Corpus Christi with the exception of the cabin of one 
family of life-in-their-hand trappers who live near 
Aranzas Bay. Your father’s great trouble will be to 
get you to his rancho safely. But probably he has 
brought enough of his followers with him to make 
your journey comparatively secure, especially as Tay- 
lor’s projected movement to the Rio Grande will oc- 
cupy all the Mexican forces.” 

“Ah, you make me very happy,” replies his listener, 
her eyes beaming. “Every word you have uttered has 
proclaimed my father’s devotion to me. Even with his 
great losses and destroyed estate, he within a year af- 
terwards sent sufficient money for my mother’s and my 
comfort in New York and soon after enough for even 
my luxury.” 

“Very well, then let’s take the trail to livelier topics,” 
suggests the Captain. “The darkies are singing some 
plantation melodies in the steerage. Would you like 
to hear them?” for sounds of the banjo are floating 
over the soft and quiet waters. 

“With pleasure,” remarks the young lady, and un- 
der his escort strolls forward to listen to “Oh, Susan- 
nah,” “Nellie Grey,” and “The Arkansas Traveller,” 
and see a big darkey roustabout from Louisiana do 
a terrific double shuffle Levee dance on the hurricane 
deck. 


62 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“You like music?” she asks the Captain. 

“Well, yes, possibly because Tve heard so very little 
of it. You know I never listened to an opera until 
I went into the Academy in New Orelans. There was a 
soul in. that melody which made my eyes water and 
I’m not considered about here by the Greasers partic- 
ularly chicken hearted. Italian music about a trouba- 
dour.” 

“Ah ! Like to hear some Italian melodies to-night ?” 

“From — from your lips?” 

“Oh, I’m not a prima donna, but I think I know 
some of the songs from II Trovatore you listened to 
that evening in New Orleans.” 

Miss Godfrey steps into the cabin and gives some 
directions to her maid. 

A few moments after as she and the Captain are 
seated near the stern of the boat, Zelma brings to her 
mistress a guitar. 

Then Hampton, as he expresses it to himself, “hears 
the band begin to play,” and thinks that Miss Godfrey, 
singing sweet Italian love songs in the moonlight, beats 
the New Orleans prima donnas all to flinders. 

“At all events, her melodies make me luny,” cogitates 
the Texan after the young lady has gone away to her 
cabin. Then he abruptly mutters : “Where in thun- 
der have I seen her features ?” 

Lighting a cigar he paces the deck, turning the 
thing over in his mind. Finally he concludes it is so 
long ago he cannot locate it. Yet even after he has 
turned in, as he lies in his berth. Miss Godfrey’s radiant 
features will come back to him. 

“The face I remember was of course, not so pretty 
as hers. Jumping mustangs, nothing could be as pretty 
as hers!” he thinks half dreamily, as he tosses on the 
pillow. Suddenly he gives a start, shudders slight- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


63 


ly, and mutters : “Snakes and "gators, have I gone 
daft? By the Eternal, the face that looked like hers 
had been scalped T 


BOOK II 


Taylor’s Camp at Corpus Christi. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE MARCH FOR THE .JO GRANDE. 

The next morning Miss Godfrey wakes to find the 
steamer anchored in the bay of Corpus Christi. A 
dozen other vessels are about the City of Mobile, 
among them, two small gun boats and a revenue cutter. 
To her astonishment she sees they all have steam up. 
The bustle of an army getting ready for active service 
is on the water as well as on the land. The orderly 
lines of white tents and log cabins of four thousand 
U. S. Regulars, three or four batteries of artillery, the 
light guns placed in position, the heavy guns parked 
at the rear, are in full view. As Estrella steps on 
deck the reveille sounding from half a dozen fife and 
drum corps comes faintly over the water. The flag 
is being hoisted on the headquarters flagstaff. The 
whole glorious panoply of war is in front of her. She 
can see the infantry companies forming in the canvas- 
bordered streets though there are no signs of the usual 
morning drill. 

In contrast to the extreme order of the military en- 
campment, outside its lines on the lower ground nearer 
the shore, stands a disreputable shanty town of adobe 
huts, clapboard houses and even dwellings made of 
( 64 ) 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


65 


mesquite boughs and branches, and Conestoga wagons 
that have become houses on wheels, its irregular streets 
filled with the refuse of that shiftless congregation 
which always clusters about an army in its winter 
quarters. For Taylor’s forces have occupied Corpus 
Christi for nearly five months, ample time to gather 
about his well-ordered command not only those on di- 
rect business for the Government bringing him sup- 
plies, forage and ammunition, but also the thousand 
varied sharks and harpies that live upon, prey upon and 
plunder Uncle Sam’s soldiers. Consequently in this 
heterogeneous congregation of buildings are seen Mex- 
ican dance halls, with painted canvas signs, American 
gambling-houses and bar-rooms where aguardiente, 
mescal and “noyau” together with bad whiskey that 
never saw Kentucky, are served in sufficient quantities 
to make the duties of the provost marshal very ardu- 
ous after pay-day. Of course, mingled with the haunts 
of vice are the sirens who lure the soldiers into them. 

The appearance of this shanty town is made some- 
what picturesque by the green of the bough manufac- 
tured huts and the varied patched covers of the Con- 
estoga wagons, some of which are occupied as homes 
by wandering camp followers who are ready to hitch 
up and follow along as soon as the army moves to the 
front. 

In the nearer foreground, right on the shore, stand a 
few very plain sheds of rough lumber and adobe ware- 
houses of firms doing business with the United States 
Government.- Between these and Estrella are the blue 
waters of Corpus Christi Bay, now busy with marine 
life. Apparently some movement is contemplated for 
the anchored ships and steamers. 

Already Miss Godfrey has eaten a hasty breakfast 
in the cabin, and attended by Zelma, stands eagerly 
awaking disembarkation. Gradually her mobile fea- 


66 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


tures become shadowed by a poignant disappointment. 
She had hoped that her father, eager as she for meet- 
ing, might come off in a shore boat to greet her. But 
no Jim Godfrey climbs up the side ladder. So she 
stands, her little foot tapping the deck impatiently, 
until nearly all the passengers have disembarked, and 
tries to hide her chagrin by pretending to be interested 
as the mules are swung over the ship’s side and made 
to swim for their lives to the shore, though a tear or 
two will dim her eyes. 

About this time Captain Hampton says quietly at 
her shoulder: “Everything is ready for you. Miss 
Godfrey. McGowan has kindly given me one of the 
cutters. I’ve got your baggage in it. With your per- 
mission, can I assist you down the side ladder?” 

“Not until I’ve said a word to her,” cries the skipper. 
Turning for a moment from his ship’s duties, he takes 
the young girl’s hands in his and says cordially : “My 
dear young lady, even if you meet your father you had 
better remain on board my ship with him until he 
takes you to his rancho. In addition, should your 
father not be in that rough and tumble shanty town 
there, my advice is for you to return to the City of 
Mobile. Then I’ll take charge of you and put you 
back in New Orleans and civilization.” 

“Thank you, but I shall not come back. Captain. I 
am going to -see my father, even if he is not here, even 
if I have to go to the ranch,” she answers determinedly. 
“He may have mistaken the time for my coming.” 

“Then you’ve a pretty difficult task upon your hands, 
young lady,” remarks the skipper glumly. Tak- 
ing Hampton aside, he whispers a few hasty words, 
and Miss Godfrey catches the reply in low, quiet voice : 
“Leave her to me, McGowan. I’ll see that she gets 
in her dad’s arms.” 

Somehow this gives great confidence to the young 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


67 


lady. She is in such good spirits as she permits 
herself to be assisted down the side ladder of the 
ship that she hardly notices that an army boat dashes 
up to it and a staff officer in undress uniform hastily 
passes her at the gangway and goes into consultation 
with Captain McGowan. That the craft does not 
carry a Texan planter who may be her father is all 
that concerns her. 

Zelma has preceded her and is already seated with 
her mistress’s hand baggage and big sunshade on one 
of the midship’s seats of the cutter. As Hampton 
places himself beside Miss Godfrey in the stern, the 
mistress notices a curious austerity in his face as he 
chances to gaze at her octoroon maid. Once when he 
has occasion to speak to Zelma, his words are curt 
and the tone of his voice is severe. 

Wondering at this, Estrella, who has already made 
up her mind that the geni'leman at her side has a kind 
heart, and furthermore that he also considers himself 
altogether too great a gun to pay much attention to 
the doings of her servant, casts her eyes over Zelma 
to see if there is anything in her attendant’s manner or 
appearance that has caused the Captain’s condemna- 
tion, and discovers naught. 

Upon this journey her mistress has thought it wise, 
in view of the young woman’s atractive personality, 
to keep Zelma, though neatly, very plainly dressed. 
This morning her maid would be unnoticeable were it 
not impossible to hide the contpurs of a delicate yet 
slightly voluptuous Creole figure beneath a plain black 
short-skirted alpaca frock and to destroy the effect of 
her lustrous, languid, dark eyes by having the glossy 
dark masses of the girl’s hair braided into two big 
disfiguring pigtails. 

But even as Miss Godfrey looks, she is concerned 
to notice that Zelma under Hampton’s glance droops 


6g THE SPY COMPANY. 

her eyes in an almost guilty embarrassment, and her 
attendant’s manner becomes extraordinarily confused. 

The boat having reached a little pile landing place, 
Hampton springs out and very carefully assists Miss 
Godfrey upon its rough planking. Zelma, with the 
hand baggage, has been passed on shore by the 
crew. With a sharp command to her attendant: 
“Keep close behind your mistress, girl,” the Texan leads 
the young lady through a short street which has been 
made a quagmire by the wheels of Government wagons 
through which a band of army pack mules are tramp- 
ing, splashing the black Texas mud over Estrella’s neat 
travelling dress. 

“Can’t help roughing it a leetle,” remarks Hampton, 
reassuringly, as he keeps between the delicate girl and 
some rough teamsters, and escorts her very carefully 
through a congregation of Mexican packers, for, lured 
by American gold, there were always plenty of non- 
combatant Greasers in the rear of Uncle Sam’s army. 

During this, Estrella cannot help glancing at the 
cavalier who is taking such very good care of her. A 
look of astonishment is in her face. Sharpe Hampton 
upon the land is almost a different being to Sharpe 
Hampton upon the sea. His air, which had been 
rather quietly languid on shipboard, has become strik- 
ingly alert. His movements seem quick as a wildcat’s. 
This wonderful flexibility is easily apparent from the 
costume he wears, which is a mixture of that of the 
prairies and that of the parade ground. His legs are 
cased in buckskin breeches tight as if they were his 
own skin. His feet are in moccasins. A short buck- 
skin hunting shirt clothes him from the waist up ; over 
it is the loose undress coat of a volunteer captain, 
his rank shown by a couple of neat shoulder straps. 
A Mexican sombrero tops his resolute face, and instead 
of a sword, he wears for side arms in his belt a buck- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


69 


horn-handled bowie knife and a pair of six-shooting 
Colt’s dragoon pistols, deadly as a rifle at a hundred 
yards. 

Though his legs are slightly bowed from constant 
horse exercise, his pace is so rapid that twice he has to 
stop and accommodate his steps to those of the pretty 
feet which are striving to keep up with him. Under 
his guidance the party soon stand in front of a little 
clapboard shanty labeled by a canvas sign : “Branch 
Offlee, Martin Best & Co., New York.” This the 
^'oung lady enters with a very eager look upon her face 
to receive astonishment and afterwards dismay. 

A clerk, who would be dapper were his shirt not cov- 
ered with whiskey stains and his sleeves not rolled up 
to his elbows, looks carelessly up from some bills of 
lading, and, seeing this goddess of beauty and fashion, 
takes off a battered straw hat and ejaculates under his 
breath: “Gee cracky!” 

As she mentions her name he bows effusively and 
says deferentially: “Fm mighty sorry,' Miss Godfrey, 
but there’s been a terrific mistake up to our Galveston, 
office. We sent a letter there that your father had got 
word to us that he would be up the coast at Mata- 
gorda to meet you, not Corpus Christi. As soon as 
we got it we forwarded his instructions on the Padii- 
cahr 

“Oh, mercy, the Paducah broke her shaft. We 
passed her outside of Galveston Harbor. That letter 
reached there after I left. What am I to do?” 

“Well, your father’s at Matagorda.” 

“Can I get transportation to Matagorda?” 

“No; I am sorry to tell you all the steamboats go 
back direct to Galveston,” replies the clerk. ^ 

“Then what am I to do ? I must see my father.” 

Her escort, who has not intruded himself upon this 
interview, is standing outside the door, looking medi- 


70 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


tatively at a sutler’s boy trying to conquer a wayward 
bronco. She steps out to him and, hastily explaining 
the matter, says, consternation in her voice : “Captain 
Hampton, I am in a fearful dilemma. What am I to 
do?” 

“You want very much to see your father?” 

“Oh, so much. Think, I haven’t looked on him ever 
in my life to know him.” 

“Well, the most sensible way would be for you to 
stay here until you can get carried back to Galveston. 
Some vessel in a few days must be returning up the 
coast. From there send word to your father and let 
him visit you at that place.” 

“I don’t think he can come. He is too busy. He 
has a large number of Government contracts. He 
furnishes horses for the volunteer regiments they ex- 
pect to raise in Texas, also the Mounted Rifles.” 

“Yes, I know that.” Then, after a moment’s con- 
sideration, Hampton adds : “I think your father made 
up his mind it would not be possible to get through 
to Corpus Christ! with his scalp. That’s the reason 
he didn’t come here.” 

“But I must go to him.” 

“I understand your ideas on that point. Believe 
me, you shall see him, though I may have to make ar- 
rangements that you go by schooner to Matagorda. 
At all events, for the present the best place for you 
is on board of McGowan’s steamboat.” 

Her trunks are being carried into the office of Mar- 
tin, Best & Co. by some negro roustabouts. To them 
he says : “Leave these here for the present.” To the 
young lady he suggests : “Let your maid carry your 
hand baggage, and I will trot you down to the shore 
again and get you on board at once.” Then the tears 
of disappointment in her beautiful eyes draw from 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


71 


him: ^‘Only take the word of Sharpe Hampton that 
in some way or other you shall see your father!” 

As they pass through the clustering roustabouts and 
Government teamsters near the shore of the bay a buzz 
of commotion and excitement seems to pervade the 
shanty town. Hampton apparently doesn’t heed this, 
though when he gets to the landing place a short, sharp 
gun from one of the warships calls from him a sudden 
exclamation. He says, shading his eyes and looking 
over the waters of the bay: ‘‘Great thunder, look, 
every vessel in the harbor is going out of it 1” 

“Even the City of Mobile/' whispers Estrella, dis- 
may in her voice. 

“By golly, if de whole flock of ’em ain’t tooten’ down 
to P’int Isabella to wait dere til der Greasers is licked 
out,” guffaws a half-clothed negro sutler’s boy, who is 
looking at the picture with two or three equally un- 
dressed companions. 

“What does it mean?” asks the girl, faintly, feeling 
that this nautical movement affects her destiny. 

As she speaks the soft notes of the bugles float 
through the quiet air from the distant camp. 

“Mean?” cries the young Texan, the fire of battle 
making his eyes flash and bringing the blood into his 
cheeks. “Those transports all ordered down the coast ; 
those bugles from the army lines sounding ‘boots and 
saddles !’ By the Lord, it means at last Taylor is 
marching on the Rio Grande. My Heaven, I’ve got 
to get back like blazes to San Antonio and bring the 
boys on quick.” 

The bugles from the distant camp sound again and 
Miss Godfrey, looking up dismayed, notices that the 
veins in her escort’s forehead stand out and his eyes 
are turned eagerly southward. 

“Captain Hampton, I’m afraid your care of me will 
keep you from your military duties,” says Estrella, fal- 


72 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


teriiigly. ‘‘Leave me at the office of Martin, Best & 
Co. That clerk is a gentleman. He will do all he can 
for the daughter of Jim Godfrey, one of their most 
valuable customers.” 

“Leave you here; the army going from it; in this 
disreputable, teamster, camp-follower gambling hole ?” 
he glances over the rough town. 

“Then couldn’t you get some Mexicans to escort me 
to my father’s ranch ?” 

''Greasers to keep you from Comanches?” half jeers, 
half shudders Hampton. “Don’t doubt those red devils 
know the men of Texas are going to the front, and are 
already trailing down over the plains to jump each un- 
protected ranch-house. Come with me. I’ve got to 
go up to Taylor’s camp, anyway. There may be some 
wives of officers left who can take care of you for the 
moment.” 

As he speaks the Texan is striding hurriedly along 
the muddy street of this purlieus of the army. Two 
minutes after he is at what proudly calls itself a livery 
stable, and is assisting the boys to hitch a couple of 
mustangs into a second-hand army ambulance, buckling 
strap and throwing on harness himself. 

Upon the front seat of this vehicle he seats Zelma, 
tossing in her mistress’s light baggage after her. With 
much more care he assists to the back seat Miss God- 
frey. Springing beside her, he says sharply to a nigger 
boy, who has jumped in front and is handling the reins : 
“Drive lively to Taylor’s headquarters. Sambo !” 

So they dash up the muddy street, splattering the 
black mold upon several half-breed camp women, who 
are out looking for victims, one or two white-shirted 
gamblers who are strolling towards the martial music, 
and “Monte Juan,” a Mexican card sharper, who would 
mutter a "CarajoT as they pass him by — did he not 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


73 


recognize and remember Captain Sharpe Hampton of 
Hays’s Rangers. 

As they drive up to headquarteis martial music 
breaks out upon the sunny air. “See, the advance is 
beginning,” whispers Hampton, his eyes glinting as 
he points toward the parade ground, where the regi- 
ments are now drawn up; their tents, already struck, 
have been put into the baggage-wagons, which are 
clustering to follow them. 

Already the movement is in progress ; Taylor and his 
staff are reviewing the advance column of his army 
that he is projecting on the Rio Grande, that stream 
the approach to which the Mexican Government has 
said means war. 

A squadron of Thornton’s Dragoons trotting with 
clattering sabres forms the advance guard. Immedi- 
ately after rides the leader of the column. Colonel 
Twiggs, followed by his staff, hard-riding, dashing, 
young officers of fine bearing, but dressed in fatigue 
uniforms and rigged out for service, not display. Then 
with slashing route step come three regiments of in- 
fantry, their bands playing, their men cheering. After 
them roll the light batteries, their gallant commander, 
that superb artilleryman, Ringgold, riding ahead of his 
guns, his eyes vivid with the anticipation of battle 
and victory, gallant eyes that two months hence shall 
close in death on the blood-stained field of Palo Alto. 

All through the ranks are faces radiant with hope 
of successful war, and many with thought of happy re- 
turn honored with victory to their loved ones in the 
far North States. But this morning all eyes are turned 
southward, not to face about until they have borne the 
American colors proudly over the Cordilleras and plant- 
ed them victorious on the capital of Mexico. Many of 
them will never turn north again ; boys who have kissed 
their sweethearts for the last time ; husbands who shall 


74 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


look no more in this world upon wives’ faces; men 
whose mothers shall wait for them by the home fireside 
in vain. 

Yet all go cheering buoyantly along as if they were 
striding to fete, not to battle. For five months’ waiting 
in this kennel of Corpus Christi has made Uncle Sam’s 
war dogs very eager, now that the leash has been taken 
from them, to spring at Mexican throats. 

The column disappears in the distance, the dust of 
their foot-tracks drifts away, but the United States 
with the footsteps of this marching column has begun 
one of its greatest territorial advances. Before those 
battle-flags are furled Uncle Sam will absorb Texas, 
California, and all that great territory that now per- 
mits him to span the continent with half a dozen lines 
of steel from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and so on to 
the commerce of the Far East ; a national development 
without which the great Yankee nation’s destiny would 
have been inefficient, incomplete, absurd. 

As usual, quite a congregation of onlookers have 
inspected the departing troops. One of them a 
smooth-tongued, timid-looking hospital clerk, remarks : 
“Gee! When they hear the news up in the States, 
won’t they give poor old Rough-and-Ready Taylor 
hell for this?” 

“Yes, the Presidency !” answers a long-headed, cool 
Government commissariat contractor, spitting some 
tobacco juice in the dust. 

But the hospital clerk guessed right, as well as the 
contractor. National expansion, as usual, was opposed 
by a certain number of the American people, who cried 
out: “Conquest, blood and Imperialism!” and, not 
satisfied with attacking the Government at Washington, 
inaugurated an assault upon the army of this country 
from the rear, doing more damage to it than the foes 
in front of it. For American soldiers have usually been 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


75 


very successful in meeting open opponents, steel to 
steel, and gun to gun, though their officers have some- 
times suffered wofully from cowardly assassins of their 
characters who have assailed them in the rear, and who 
even in the halls of Congress have cried out with a 
simplicity that would be ludicrous were it not horrible : 
“Great heavens, our cruel soldiers are defending their 
lives and killing somebody T 

But the American nation, despite their puny pro- 
tests, still marches ever on, as it did in 1846, in the 
days of Winfield Scott, Zachary Taylor and the Mex- 
ican War. 


CHAPTER VI. 

“tPIE GOLIAD HOUSE. 

During this Miss Godfrey’s eyes have rested much 
oftener upon the face of the Texan sitting next hei 
than upon the military panorama that has passed be- 
fore her. As regiment after regiment has passed him, 
and battery after battery of light artillery has rum- 
bled on, she has seen a flush of shame mingled with 
the light of battle coming into the clean-cut, Roman 
features beside her. She has observed that his clenched 
hands indicate some absorbing emotion, and that his 
thin lips which utter no words grow thinner in com- 
pression. 

A sinking dread comes into the girl’s heart as she 
notices the Berserker spirit rising in the only man to 
whom she can turn for protection in her extremity. 
For as she has ridden through the narrow byways of 
the sutlers’ town she has seen sights that make her 
frightened to be left alone in it; deeply rouged Mex- 
ican fohrHas, sitting in the easy dishabille of the trop- 


76 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


ics in front of their houses smoking their cigarettes 
and waving their fans at passers-by; low barrooms, 
out of which have strolled the scum of the army 
following, gamblers, three-card-monte men and sharp- 
ers. In addition, several painted Anglo-Saxon cour- 
tesans have made her shudder. 

Finally, as the tramp of the departing column dies 
away, as the last glimmer of arms is lost in the sur- 
rounding forest, a mighty emotion seems to shake this 
man, and Estrella knows that he for the moment has 
forgotten her in the excitement of coming battle. For 
Sharpe Hampton half rises in the ambulance, his face 
red as blood with shame, the veins in his forehead 
swollen almost to bursting, and mutters in abased 
voice: “By the God of my fathers, not one Texan in 
the whole durned outfit !” Then, speaking to himself, 
he breaks out rapidly : “I must get on to San Antonio 
at once. The boys must be here before the first battle 
or it would disgrace our State forever ” 

“Oh, don’t let me detain you,” says the girl, proudly, 
though her heart is heavy. 

Apparently awakening from a dream, the light of 
battle leaves his eyes, which grow tender. To her he 
replies : “You won’t detain me from my duty.” 

“And why not?” 

“Because my duty is, like that of any other soldier, 
to see that everything is all right in the rear before 
he charges to the front.” With this Hampton looks 
eagerly over the parade ground, which is now a scene 
of busy activity. The General has gone back to staff 
business in his log cabin headquarters, another column 
leaves the next morning. Preparations are now being 
hastily made for this ; commissary officers are busy with 
equipment and ordnance stores ; aides-de-camp are 
riding about and giving orders ; baggage-wagons being 
ladened. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


77 


But the Ranger’s eyes are not upon this military 
bustle. After a hasty glance over the heterogeneous 
throng which crowd along the lines of the parade 
ground he scans intently the log cabins of the offi- 
cers’ quarters, and seeing no lady’s face except the 
anxious one that is beside him, he mutters : “There 
— there doesn’t seem to be a single officer’s wife 
about,” then continues rapidly to Miss Godfrey : 
“You’re perfectly safe here. Remain still while I go to 
headquarters. The General will probably have some- 
thing to say to me about bringing on the Texan troops. 
While there I’ll see what can be done for your accom- 
modation and your return to Galveston.” 

As he springs out of the ambulance his eye catches 
a group of their fellow-passengers of ihQ City of Mo- 
bile, and he says sharply to Zelma : “Girl, take good 
care of your mistress, and don’t dare to leave her side.” 

Noting his tone, Estrella asks anxiously of her at- 
tendant : “Zelma, what is the reason Captain Hamp- 
ton is so displeased with you ?” 

“I — I don’t know, Madame,” stammers the young 
woman, though her eyes are turned from those of her 
mistress. 

“You’re quite certain?” says Miss Godfrey. De- 
spite herself her voice is rather cold as she steps from 
the wagon and directs her maid : “Please jump out, 
Zelma, and brush some of this frightful dust from me.” 

In the ambulance Miss Godfrey had been scarcely 
noticed, but as she steps upon the parade ground, the 
only lady on it, her graceful figure and stylish costume 
produce a quick sensation, even among the older faces 
about Taylor’s headquarters. Among the younger 
officers a hundred bright eyes are placed directly upon 
her, and half a hundred moustachios are suddenly 
curled to make their effect upon beauty. 

With this a dashing lieutenant in dragoon uniform 


78 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


rapidly wheels his horse, gallops to her and, doffing 
his fatigue cap, says : “Is it possible? Can it be?” 

And she replies: “It is,” adding, with perhaps a 
tinge of coquetry in her tone, “I am glad to see that I 
haven’t changed so much since Saratoga that you’ve 
forgotten me, Mr. Pelham.” 

The young man, bending over his saddle bow, whis- 
pers : “Forget you ? Never.” Then he breaks out : 
“Why in God’s name have you come to this place now ? 
Every lady by order was sent north a week ago on the 
Paducah” and springs off his charger to hold con- 
sultation with this beautiful derelict from civilization 
in the camp of an army that is now practically in active 
campaign. 

As he walks by her side Miss Godfrey gives the 
young man an epitome of the circumstances that have 
brought her to Corpus Christi, closing it by murmur- 
ing, rather roguishly: “I am very sorry you think it 
unfortunate.” 

“Unfortunate! At any other time I should say it 
was more than good luck,” answers Pelham, enthusi- 
astically, his eyes lingering on the beauties of the girl 
that he thought enchanting in Saratoga, but which 
have been made overpowering by the development of 
the last two years. “Only a week ago I could have 
done so much for you here,” he says, earnestly, but 
disconcertedly. “My mother, who had come down to 
see me, only left on the Paducah. You wouldn’t have 
made this mistake if you had” — he looks at her ear- 
nestly — “ever — ever cared to write to me. But now 
I don’t know what I’m going to do for you. My 
squadron. May’s Dragoons, are here acting as provost 
guard and in general attendance at headquarters. But 
even we take route to-morrow morning. When the 
army ceases to patrol that wretched, cattle-thief, gam- 
bler, riff-raff, shanty-town down there, I don’t know 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


79 


what will happen in it,” remarks the Lieutenant, ap- 
prehension running over his face as he looks upon the 
delicate waif from civilization. “You say Captain 
Sharpe Hampton of the Texan Rangers has you in 
his charge?” he continues. “From what we’ve heard 
of him since we’ve been in Southern Texas, I should 
think Providence has picked out for you about the 
best man in these regions to see you very safe.” 

This conference is interrupted by the return of 
Hampton. The handsome young dragoon strolling by 
the side of his charge has perhaps quickened the Tex- 
an’s steps. 

“Captain Hampton,” says Estrella, in answer to his 
inquiring glance, “let me present Lieutenant Pelham 
of May’s Dragoons.” 

The young men greet each other cordially, Sharpe 
remarking: “From the reputation of your command- 
er, Mr. Pelham, I am inclined to think your squadrons 
will be heard from as soon as the campaign begins.” 
To this, after a moment’s consideration, he adds: 
“You’ve been located here some little time. Will you 
excuse a few hasty questions? I am told that the 
officers’ wives have all been sent from this camp, which 
will be practically deserted to-morrow. Do you know 
of any proper place in which I can leave Miss Godfrey 
until I can make some arrangements for her safe trans- 
portation to Matagorda?” 

At this the Lieutenant, after looking helpless for a 
moment, says: “I expect the only place you can get 
lodging for Miss Godfrey — and that’s bad enough — is 
in the Goliad House.” He points down the narrow 
dirty street leading from the camp towards the em- 
barcadero. “It’s a God-forlsaken hole with a faro 
bank in one comer of it every night on the lower floor ; 
but it’s the only place.” 


8o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


He has just given this information when an orderly 
rides up, and, saluting, delivers a hurried order. 

Receiving this, the young officer remarks, his face 
twitching with disappointment : “I’m ordered to im- 
mediately escort a wagon of medical supplies that have 
been left behind and deliver them to the Chief Surgeon 
of Twiggs’s column. I’d hoped. Miss Godfrey, to ride 
down to the town with you and do my best to make you 
comfortable, but the order is immediate. Good-bye 
for the moment. As soon as I’ve delivered Colonel 
Twiggs’s quinine and calomel I’ll come to the Goliad 
House to see you. That’s where you’re going to take 
her. Captain Hampton ?” 

“Yes,” replies the Texan. “I suppose it’s the only 
thing I can do now ; all the officers’ ladies have gone 
north.” 

“Then this little note from the Assistant Provost- 
Marshal here, who is your humble servant, to Him 
Jones, who is proprietor of the house, I think will suc- 
ceed in getting you anything that’s in it,” remarks the 
Lieutenant. Hastily penciling a few lines in his mem- 
orandum book, he tears the page out and hands it to 
Hampton. 

“Thank you. I’ll deliver it,” remarks the Texan, as 
he turns to the wagon. 

“Good-bye, Miss Godfrey,” whispers Pelham, 
more in his voice than in his words: “I’ll be back 
and see you this evening certainly.” He squeezes the 
little fingers held out for his salute, springs on his 
horse and gallops away. 

As the dragoon has been bidding the young lady 
good-bye the Ranger has been giving some orders to 
their negro driver, and the minute Estrella and her 
maid are seated in the carriage he rides with them into 
the town. 

During this he is speaking rapidly. “At headquar- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


8l 


ters 1 received a note that had been sent me there from 
the City of Mobile. McGowan is very much con- 
cerned that his vessel was ordered down to Point Isa- 
bella immediately so that he could not offer you the 
hospitality of his ship. The extra equipment for 
Hays’s regiment that I bought in New Orleans, he 
writes me, has been put hastily on shore in a lighter. 
Landing and storing this will probably delay me here 
the balance of this day. During it I am going to try 
and find a craft of some kind that will take you up to 
Matagorda, for you must absolutely leave here by 
water.” 

“What makes you think that so very important?” 
asks Estrella. 

“Well, from what I picked up at Taylor’s head- 
quarters, that Mexican scoundrel, Carrabijol,* has had 
the impudence to come up here, even during this last 
day or two, and sound the old General as to whether 
he would use United States troops to support him in 
organizing a revolution in the northern Mexican 
States,” replies Hampton, earnestly. “Of course, it 
didn’t take long for old ‘Rough and Ready’ to have 
the Mexican bandit hustled out of his camp. But if 
Carrabijol has been here, it doesn’t take two guesses 
to be very sure that his master Canales isn’t very far 
off over that prairie,” he points to the west, “with a 
band of rancheros. Now Taylor, having commenced 
his march, Canales will move north to harass the Tex- 
an settlements. It would be but a toss-up as to 
whether you had better fall into this bandit’s clutches 
or Comanche hands. Therefore, I must make arrange- 

* “Carrabijol, the lieutenant of Canales (the great Mexican 
bandit of the Rio Grande), visited Taylor’s camp at Corpus 
Christ! to try and induce the American General to support him 
in a revolution against the Mexican General Government.”— 
Our Army at Monterey, by J. B. Thorpe. 


82 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


ments for you to depart by water. While I do this 
I’ve got to leave you with Him Jones of the Goliad 
House. This note from the Lieutenant, I imagine, 
will fix it all right ; but if Him Jones is the Him Jones 
I used to know in Goliad a word from me will make 
you very safe with him. Him Jones won’t hesitate to 
run a faro bank, but he’ll run it square every deal.” 

By this time they have drawn up in front of a clap- 
board hotd of two low stories, whose canvas sign over- 
topping its roof bears the words: “Goliad House.” 
Its ground floor is devoted to a bar and billiard room, 
though a flight of rough steps outside the building 
leads to its second story, which has a balcony in front 
of it. 

“Just wait in the wagon until I see the proprietor,” 
directs Hampton, springing out. 

A minute later he comes back to her, assists her 
carefully from the wagon, and, telling the maid to 
bring her mistress’s belongings with her, leads Miss 
Godfrey up this rickety stairway to the second story. 

At the door of this they are welcomed by a hawk- 
nosed, alligator- jawed man in shirt-sleeves, who in re- 
sponse to Hampton’s remark: “Jones, this is the 
young lady you are to take mighty good care of in my 
absence,” pulls his forelock and says : “Captain, she’ll 
be ace high all the time in this house.” 

Then the girl finds herself led through a narrow and 
uncarpeted hallway and ushere^ into two back rooms, 
both having cot beds in them and some cheap pine fur- 
niture. 

“They’re not very scrumptious,” remarks Mr. Jones, 
“but there ain’t as much noise in ’em as the front dom- 
iciles. And in ’em, baring skeeters, you can be as lone- 
ly as if you were in the State Prison.” 

“That’s what I want,” says the young lady. “Thank 
you, Mr. Jones, I shall be very comfortable here.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


83 


She looks out on the enlivening prospect of Mr. 
Jones’s backyard, where a couple of razor-back hogs 
are rubbing themselves against the poles that support 
the building, and two or three more are rooting in the 
swill that has been chucked out of the pleasant kitchen 
of the Goliad House by the fat negro woman who acts 
as its chef de cuisine. 

Some odor of coming meal catching Hampton’s nos- 
trils, he glances at his watch and says: “While I’m 
away, Him, you see this young lady has dinner.” 

“Yes, sirree; prairie-chicken fixins and wild turkey 
notions,” replies Him, eager to offer frontier hos- 
pitality. 

“She’d better have it served in her room. Her maid 
can bring it up to her,” suggests the Ranger. “Now, 
Miss Godfrey, I’ll see what I can do to get some kind 
of a boat to take you up the coast again.” 

With this he leaves the room. Catching a glance of 
his eye. Him Jones follows him. Out of earshot, in the 
front of the hotel, Hampton says a few hasty words 
to the innkeeper. 

“What, that bang-up twenty-five-hundred-dollar, 
slick as camp-meeting piece of feminine flesh and 
blood?” mutters Him sternly. “This is a purty good 
place to run niggers off, and I’ll keep an eye on the 
wench.” 

As the Texan Ranger strides down the street the 
hotel keeper emits a contemplative whistle, and says to 
himself : “Great alligators, who’d have thought that 
French China doll who wears silk stockin’s and high- 
heeled slippers would need a cuttin’ up.” Then even 
Him Jones’s hard features become perturbed as he 
ejaculates: “Cracky, I wouldn’t be in that octoroon’s 
hide if her master, Jim Godfrey, ever knows of her 
gallivanting. He’s the tightest man with niggers this 
side of Louisiannie, and that’s sayin’ a good deal.” 


84 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


With this the boniface strolls back into his house, where 
he lives up to his word, taking up with his own hands 
the best kind of a frontier dinner of hot corn dodgers, 
broiled prairie chicken and roast wild turkey to the 
young lady in the upper rooms. 

Miss Godfrey, being nervous, does but scant justice 
to the meal. Then, the time being heavy on her hands, 
she strolls to the front of the hotel, gazes out through 
a few panes of glass inserted in the door that opens on 
the veranda, and finds herself surrounded by the semi- 
frontier, semi-Mexican demoralization that has gath- 
ered about an army in winter quarters. 

Across the street from her is a big dance hall bear- 
ing the sign, “Bella Union.” Upon its front door is 
placarded “t/w Fandango Grander And beneath 
this : “Last Big Dance for Taylor’s Boys. Mexican 
Orchestra and Lots of Hurdy-Gurdy Girls. Carmelita 
Will Dance, come one, come all! ADMISSION 
. FREE!” 

On either flank of this building are ordinary saloons. 
In front of one, out on the muddy sidewalk, sit a few 
of the diamond-pinned gentry of her voyage, Mr. Yazoo 
Sam in white flannel suit and Panama hat quite con- 
spicuous among them, his feet cocked up on a live oak 
tree. On the same side as Miss Godfrey’s hotel are 
two or three more drinking shops, a general merchan- 
dise store and a shooting gallery, from which the occa- 
sional crack of a rifle indicates some army teamsters 
are trying to win the pipes and cigars that are offered 
for prizes. 

According to Spanish custom, most of the ladies of 
the town are enjoying a siesta, and, the day being hot, 
but few men tramp its streets, though there are plenty 
busy handling freight down at the embarcadero, from 
which now and then an army wagon rolls past her, its 


THE SPY COMPANY. 85 

teamster cracking his whip and cursing his mules as 
they go through the adobe mud. 

The aspect of the place is depressing to the young 
lady. She shudders slightly. It seems as if she were 
in a new and uncouth world. 

Her dejection increases when Hampton returns and 
brings a shock with him. He says, glumly : ‘T have 
been down to the office of Martin, Best & Co. and had 
that clerk running around all over the harbor to see 
if he could find transportation for you to Matagorda. 
There ain’t so much as a skiff that can be got, let alone 
a sloop or a schooner, which is the smallest thing that 
dare go out on the open ocean, now it’s getting the 
season for northers.” 

'‘Then what am I to do?” asks the girl, half of her- 
self, half of him. “What am I to do? I know your 
duty compels you to leave here to-morrow at the latest 
to bring down Hays’s regiment. I cannot ask you to 
sacrifice your duty as a soldier for me.” Then she 
shudders : “God help me ; alone in this terrible place !” 
After a second she adds: “Mr. Pelham would do 
everything in his power for me, but is compelled by 
his duty to leave here to-morrow.” 

“And another would do everything for you,” remarks 
Hampton, “another. Miss Godfrey; don’t forget me. 
Let me think over the thing.” As he looks upon 
this girl, made even more beautiful by the anxiety in 
her eyes, something comes into the frontiersman’s mind 
that tells him what he decides within the next few 
moments will be vital to his life. He says, slowly: 
“Let me consider this when I am away from you. Your 
trouble keeps me from judging just straight.” 

Pacing the little veranda, a curious look is in his cold, 
blue eyes. They flicker and grow dim. For the first 
time in his life Sharpe Plampton is really frightened. 
With himself he communes: “Best keep away from 


86 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


her. I know when Tm licked. A few days more un- 
der the glances of her sweet eyes and I’ll go into my 
next fight scared that I’ll die before I’ve won something 
I’ve got to win before I go under. And yet, it’s de- 
spair, anyway. A rough, hard-fighting frontiersman 
must look like a galoot to a girl who’s been brought up 
as finicky as she. But I couldn’t look man nor woman 
in the face if I deserted her here, helpless and alone, 
even under the plea of military necessity.” 

Then the spirit that had changed defeat into victory 
in so many desperate contests surges up in him. 

He says recklessly to himself : “Down at Mier* 
I drew a white bean. By the soul of old Ben Milam, 
I’ll see if her pretty fingers will give me a black one, 
even if handsome West Point dragoons hustle with me 
for her favor.” 

He quietly steps back to the young lady, whose 
eyes are distrait with anxiety and her hands twitching 
nervously, in his soul one great question : “Will she 
do it?” 

The two stand facing each other, a problem in each of 
their minds. The bronzed features of the Texan grow 
slightly pale; his hands also tremble a little; he says, 
slowly: “Miss Godfrey, I’ve got to get to my regi- 
ment up at San Antonio. Your father’s hacienda isn’t 
much of a ride out of my way. If you’ll trust your- 
self with me alone on the prairies for days and nights, 
dodging bandits and eluding Indians, I’ll put you safe- 
ly in your dad’s arms if the thing is to be done.” 


* During the unfortunate Mier Expedition, in 1842, the cap- 
tured Texans were decimated by order of the Mexican Govern- 
ment. Nine white beans to each black one were placed in a 
gourd, and each one of the prisoners was compelled to insert 
his hand and draw out one bean. Those who chanced to take 
the black ones were soon after led out and shot to death. — 
Editor, 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


87 


“Trust you? I know you’ll get me there!” cries 
the girl, impulsively. “Thank heaven, everything’s 
fixed all right.” In proof of this she extends eagerly 
her delicate patrician hand. 

“Then you’re — you’re not frightened of me?” he 
mutters ; his face glows red ; and her slight fingers are 
seized in a grip of steel, yet held most tenderly and 
respectfully. 

Estrella looks at him earnestly for a moment. The 
color that is in his face seems to call the blushes to her 
cheeks also. The eyes of the young Captain of Ran- 
gers have something more in them than the request 
of confidence. She says, falteringly : “No, not fright- 
ened, but — but ” Her glances, that have been full 

upon him, seek the floor. 

She is frightened of something. Intangible, but 
vivid, it makes her heart beat very fast. She hastily 
withdraws her fingers from the electric clasp of the 
bowie knife scarred hand. 

“Now I’ve got a good many arrangements to make 
to get you off to-morrow morning,” remarks the Cap- 
tain, and turns towards the door almost as if to fly. 

“What are you going to do?” asks the girl. 

“First, I’m going to store your trunks in Martin, 
Best & Co.’s with directions that they be forwarded as 
soon as possible to Matagorda. From there they can 
go up by wagon to meet you at your ranch house. To 
get through with me you’ve got to travel flying light 
on horseback.” 

“Oh, I can ride ! I’ve a riding habit !” cries Estrella, 
confidently. 

“Not one of those civilized things,” asks the Ran- 
ger, glumly, “like the girls use on the Shell Road and 
round the Lake Drive in New Orleans?” 

“The same, if they’re in the very latest fashion,” an- 
swers Miss Godfrey, airily. 


88 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Fashion? You won’t ride fashionable. You have 
got to wear something that you can walk in, run in and 
ride boy fashion in. That jim-crack riding habit of 
yours would be torn half off you in the first mesquite 
thicket that your mustang pranced through. Besides, 
part of the journey may have to be made on foot. You 
don’t know what’s ahead of you.” 

“I don’t care what’s ahead of me as long as it takes 
me to my father.” 

“I don’t believe you do,” answers Hampton, noting 
the buoyant, yet determined, brilliancy of her eyes. 
“So I’ll get the right kind of rigging for you.” 

Leaving her astonished, he strides off to the general 
merchandise store ; but on the way there he pauses 
abruptly and communes with himself in dismayed 
tones : “Thunder, I see the giraffe ahead of me !”* 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE DANCING GIRL OF MATAMORAS. 

The embarrassment brought about by this compact 
is perhaps greater in the lady than the gentleman. 
Miss Godfrey is blushing vividly as she calls her maid 
in to her from the next room and hastily tells her of 
the arrangement, directing her to make every prepa- 
ration for them to leave in the morning. 

Zelma’s reply to this is disheartening. She says 
doggedly : “Then I fear you’ll have to leave me here, 
my mistress. I cannot ride.” 

“What, and be all alone in the wilderness, with no 

* A slang expression common in Texas at that day, equiva- 
lent to our expressive phrase in later American vernacular, 
“I see my finish.” — Editor, 


THE, SPY COMPANY. 


89 


one with us ?” breaks out Estrella, growing red to the 
roots of her hair. “Your not riding is all nonsense. 
My mother told me as a pickaninny you used to strad- 
dle an old mule in Louisiana. It — it seems to me you 
want to be left behind.” She looks at her maid 
astoundedly. 

This colloquy is interrupted by the return of Hamp- 
ton. In his hand are two buckskin frocks that have 
apparently been made for Indian or backwoods maid- 
ens. One of these, though it is of the finest fawn 
skin and decked with some rather gaudy beads, brings 
consternation to Miss Godfrey. The other or heavier 
pelt is somewhat coarser in its making. 

“I brought this for you to wear on the journey,” 
remarks the frontiersman, briefly. 

“Oh. good heavens, theyVe — they’ve got leggings,” 
gasps Estrella, for those were the days before mod- 
ern bicycle exercise had inured young ladies to gen- 
erous athletic personal display. 

“Yes, and you’ll have to wear ’em, too,” half laughs 
the Texan. “You’ll look very well in the wild Injun 
act, though I reckon these moccasins will be rather 
large for your feet. Have your girl make the duds 
over to fit you this afternoon. This other frock is for 
her.” He places on the table a somewhat plainer buck- 
skin tunic. 

“But — but Zelma says she cannot ride,” rejoins Miss 
Godfrey, inspecting the costume diffidently. 

“She’ll have to,” answers the Texan. “Straddle 
fashion, it won’t be so difficult.” 

“Straddle fashion? I’m — I’m to ride that way, 

too?” stammers Estrella. 

“Certainly, when there isn’t a lady’s saddle within 
two hundred miles of us. Besides, I don’t think any 
bronco can be broken in a few hours to carry you lob- 
sided. I’m going to make, everything as comfortable 


90 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


and convenient as possible for you, but there are cer- 
tain things beyond me, and this is one of them. Do 
you stand by your platform ? Will you go ?” 

‘'Of course I will. I’ll ride in any fashion to see 
my father.'' 

“Then give your directions to your girl," directs the 
Texan. “After that I'll take you down to Martin, Best 
& Co., where you can rummage through your trunks 
and get what is absolutely indispensable in the way of 
clothing and feminine nicknacks. I’ve even decided to 
risk a pack mule, though we oughtn’t to take it with 
us." 

“Certainly, I’ll do anything you say,” answers Miss 
Godfrey, and she takes Zelma into the other room with 
her. After a few minutes’ dressmaking consultation 
she returns to the gentleman, who is impatiently pacing 
the veranda. “I’ve put Zelma to work on — on the gar- 
ments/' she says, as Hampton leads her down to the 
ambulance that is in front of the Goliad House waiting 
for her. 

A short drive through streets in which Texas mud 
is changing under the hot sun to Texas dust and they 
are at the shipping office once more. Leaving Estrella 
in charge of the clerk, the Captain of the Rangers goes 
down to the embarcadero to look after the unloading 
of the equipment for the Texas regiment and its stor- 
age with the Government quartermaster. 

Returning from this in about an hour, he is pleased 
to find that his pupil in frontier travel has exercised 
considerable self-denial as well as discretion in the 
selection of her wardrobe, and has a very small bundle 
made up. 

“Only one dress," she laughs. “That’s not very 
much for a lady who yesterday thought a good deal 
about her personal appearance." 

“These trunks will be forwarded on the first vessel 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


9 ^ 


that goes up the coast/^ remarks the Ranger. “You’ll 
get ’em finally at Live Oaks by wagon train from 
Matagorda. We will put your immediate necessities 
in the ambulance and tote them up to the hotel.^' 

With her bundle in his hand he leads the young lady 
out after repeating his instructions to the clerk. 

Apparently he has been making some other pur- 
chases for her. The ambulance takes them to a cor- 
ral on the outskirts of the place, near the shore of the 
bay. This is occupied by a bronco dealer; a band of 
some twenty or thirty mustangs, most of them half- 
wild, are running about it. 

A clean-limbed, black, graceful-looking mare, al- 
ready saddled and bridled, is brought up to Estrella by 
a negro boy. ‘T selected this one for you to ride to- 
morrow,” remarked Hampton. “Now I’ll teach her 
not to be skittish with a lady’s skirts hanging over her 
flanks. When she’s learned to stand this she’ll prob- 
ably be easy enough.” 

Tying a big, flopping Mexican blanket about his 
waist, he springs on the mustang mare, and Miss God- 
frey sees an exhibition of horsemanship such as she 
had never seen before, the real rough-and-tumble arti- 
cle of the plains and prairies. On feeling the unusual 
accoutrement the mare utters a shrill, piercing, neigh- 
ing yell and rears up as if she would fall over back- 
wards, then goes bucking all over the corral, until as 
if despairing of getting rid of these whisking, clinging 
things, that swishing about either flank drive her mad 
with fear, the frantic creature clears the high stockade 
with a tremendous bound and dashes madly forth, dis- 
appearing in the stunted forest that surrounds the 
corral. 

Upon this struggle between man and beast Miss 
Godfrey had looked in breathless silence. Now she 


92 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


half-screams at the horse dealer : “Go after him. 
He’s killed. He’s dying in the forest there!” 

“Reckon not,” remarks the man with a contempla- 
tive ejection of tobacco juice from his mouth. “The 
Cap rides like a Comanche Injun.” 

In proof of this the black mare soon afterwards 
comes in sight, her ears down. As she lopes demurely 
back Hampton says : “I reckon she’ll be all right to- 
morrow morning.” 

He springs off and directs the darkey boy : “Make 
a girl of yourself with that blanket. Pomp ; mount the 
filly and ride her a couple of hours more to get her ac- 
customed to this harness.” 

“You don’t think she’ll do me up, Massa?” says the 
negro, doubtfully. 

“Oh, not a bit. She wasn’t vicious; she was only 
frightened. Otherwise, I wouldn’t trust you on her 
back,” he adds to Miss Godfrey. “This little Mexican 
saddle with its topaderos to save your feet from bram- 
bles when you go through timber will be just the thing 
for you.” 

“Oh, how much trouble you’re taking for me,” says 
the girl, thanking him also with her eyes. 

“Well, as Tm in command. I’ve got to see every- 
thing’s straight, and a good horse is most impor- 
tant on the prairie. The speed and bottom of that 
mare, who I reckon is about as smart a mustang as 
there is in Southern Texas, may mean your life.” 

The manner of this man of combat is quite tender 
as he continues : “I don’t want to take you out on the 
prairie uneducated. So I’ll teach you to use a 
couple of little frontier trinkets I’ve secured for you.” 

To the young lady’s dismay, he produces a pair of 
quite handsome, but very serviceable, five-shooting 
Colt’s pistols. “Dragoon ones would be a little too 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


93 


heavy for your small hand/’ he suggests, “and you 
will be able to kill mighty dead with these.” 

“Kill with these? I — I am to use them?” she fal- 
ters. 

“If necessary. Now I’ll show you how. This place 
is all right for a little instruction. I could have 
taken you up to that shooting gallery in town, but the 
lights there are not the lights of the prairie, and I want 
you to learn this thing practically out in the open.” 

With this the Captain explains the weapon to her, 
shows her how to load its chambers and begins a two- 
hours’ target practice that impresses Estrella, instruct- 
ing her in the trick of snap shooting. 

During this Miss Godfrey, chancing to make a bull’s- 
eye, becomes elated and gets to laughing over it, cry- 
ing “This is fun !” But is rather disconcerted to be 
told quite sternly ; “This is business, and the grim- 
mest business in the world. People who talk about 
fun with revolvers haven’t seen the awful things the 
weapon can do when properly handled. Look there !” 

A rooster some twenty yards away on a neighboring 
fence is stretching its neck in full cock-a-doodle. To 
the crack of the Ranger’s pistol the handsome bird, 
stricken in its triumph, falls dead with his head half- 
carried off his body. 

“Now we will go at it seriously again,” commands 
her preceptor, and keeps his pretty pupil pulling trig- 
ger till the lengthening shadows of the trees begin to 
show the approach of evening. “Reckon you’ll do for 
the present,” he says. “You’ve got nerve enough. 
Only be careful, if you want to make a very sure shot, 
to hold your breath as you touch the trigger, and never 
pull until you see something in front of your sights. 
You can’t kill anything by blazing away at the uni- 
verse.” 

As he assists her into the ambulance to drive back 


94 


THE STY COMPANY. 


to the hotel he remarks : “J^st as well take these and 
keep ’em with you,” and puts the pistols into her hands. 
“Always convenient to have such things ready in this 
part of the world,” he suggests. “Handle them and 
get acquainted with them. Some day you may find 
them the best friends you have on this earth. Use 
them on your enemies, but keep one last shot for your- 
self, for I say to you, as I do to all women on this fron- 
tier, as you love yourself, don’t let the Comanches take 
you alive. That would be my advice to my sister or 
my wife or my mother.” 

As he speaks the Captain’s face for a moment fright- 
ens his listener. She can see by the light of the set- 
ting sun his clean-cut features twitch with an agony 
of retrospection, and his eyes glint with the same pecul- 
iar expression that Miss Godfrey had seen in them 
when he spoke to the gambler — only more cruelly 
deadly. Then this fades away into a look of unutter- 
able sadness. 

“You — you’re thinking of something that makes 
you suffer,” whispers Estrella, sympathetically. 

“Soiuething I mustn’t let my mind dwell on,” mut- 
ters the Texan. With an effort he apparently puts 
from him some heart-breaking recollection and goes 
to chatting with the young lady on their preparations 
for their journey of the morrow. So they ride up 
the main street of the town. Looking at him, she 
cannot help wondering what can have been the former 
life of this man, into whose hands she is about to place 
herself so absolutely, so unguardedly. She remem- 
bers he has never mentioned his family or his previ- 
ous experiences save in the line of a Ranger’s duty. 
But gazing at his clean-cut features and his direct, 
brilliantly frank eyes, and remembering that he always 
looks everybody very straight in the face — except her, 
as their ambulance stops in front of the Goliad House 



NO GOLD FROM YOU 






THE SPY COMPANY. 


95 


Miss Godfrey places her little hand fearlessly in his 
and steps out quite confident that she has made no 
mistake in trusting the Texas Captain. 

The frontier town has sprung into greater activity 
with the approach of evening. The oil lamps in the 
barrooms are commencing to twinkle merrily. The 
big canvas sign over the Bella Union is illuminated 
by candles stuck behind it. In front of this dance 
house are gathered quite a crowd of cattlemen, their 
pockets full of Uncle Sam’s money from the sale 
to the Government commissary of beeves looted from 
Mexican rancheros on the Rio Grande, a sprinkling of 
gamblers, and a few troopers wearing the American 
uniform, sutlers’ boys and mule-packers; in addition 
are the usual Mexican off-scouring of a border town, 
leperos, poblanas and the like. 

From this concourse comes boisterous, uncouth 
applause, mixed with the sounds of guitar and 
mandolin and the merry jingle of tambourine. A 
bright, flexible, girlish voice is singing with soubrette 
archness that pretty Mexican melody, '‘Las Ninas de 
Durango” There is a vivacious abandon and piquan- 
cy in the sweet tones that attracts Estrella. She 
glances across the street, but cannot distinguish the 
performer, the crowd is so close about her, though a 
bright swish of brilliant color now and again under 
the big oil lamp in front of the Bella Union indicates 
there is dancing as well as singing. 

Further inspection is interrupted by a wild yell from 
the outskirts of the crowd. “Hoop-la ! Hi-yi-ki-yi ! 
Hoop-la! Why, if it ain’t Sharpe Hampton I” A 
long, lank, slashing frontiersman, dressed in the buck- 
skins and coon cap of the hunter, with a dark mus- 
tache and sparkling jet eyes, comes loping across the 
street and cries again: “Cap Hampton! Oh, this 


96 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


will make the Greasers feel real good. They've been 
waiting for ye here !” 

“Why, this is luck," says her escort, holding out a 
welcoming hand. “Harry Love, Wild Harry." 
Then, in answer .to Miss Godfrey’s questioning face, 
he explains : “Harry Love has ridden beside me and 
pulled trigger with me since we first met on the Mier 
Expedition." 

“Hy-Ki, whar we Dotn drewed white beans together 
and lived on rattlesnake and cactus dressin’ while we 
war gitting out from the Greasers," returns the fron- 
tiersman, who apparently is a slap-dash, nervous, and 
at times seems almost a flighty, man. Then he chuckles 
suddenly: “But I don’t know yer!" 

“Why not?" 

“Why, ye’re not smoking tobacco." 

“I’ve reformed the habit." 

“Oh, Captain, is that the reason you have been chew- 
ing straws all day?" laughs the girl. “You didn’t 
think smoke was pleasing to me.’’ 

“Oho !’’ guffaws the Texan Ranger, putting his 
eyes on Miss Godfrey. “Ye’ve got him in trainin’, 
have ye, Mrs. Hampton? I’ve heard. Cap, that 
ye’ve jest come down from New Orleans, but Great 
Taylor! I didn’t think ye’d got anything as purty as 
that. She must have been raised in Tennessee. That’s 
the only place they hatch such gals. My sakes, if she 
ain’t as bashful as a young lady possum !’’ 

For at this astounding outburst Estrella’s face has 
grown rosy as the setting sun. 

"Not Mrs. Hampton," remarks the Captain, getting 
very red himself. “You always were half-crazy, 
Harry, anyway. This is Miss Godfrey, Jim Godfrey’s 
daughter, whom I’m going to take up to her father’s 
ranch. Live Oaks, upon the Atascosa Creek. You 
may have heard of the place." 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


97 


'^Heerd of the place. Hoop-la, hi-yi, I war raised 
than’’ 

At this astonishing statement Estrella’s eyes grow 
big and she half-gasps : “You — you were raised there?” 

“From the time I war knee high,” rejoins Love, 
quite earnestly. 

“Then you’re the man I want,” says Hampton, 
eagerly. “You will help me take this young lady 
there?” 

“Not if I kin help it,” answers Harry, his face grow- 
ing gloomy. “I’ve no notion of looking on that ’ere 
ranch again,” he mutters, doggedly. “Ye see, I 
haven’t put my eyes on the place since I war a boy of 
twelve, the night it war wiped out by the Comanches.” 

“Why, I thought it was Mexicans !” cries Estrella. 

“Well, it warn’t, though the Mexicans war so proud 
of gettin’ the credit of that ’ere butcherin’ they never 
denied it. But what’s the difference whether it war 
Red devils or Yaller devils. My poor ole mummy 
and my ole man war rubbed out thar, though I escaped 
somehow, as they were burning the place, and found 
myself out of my head upon a bare-backed mustang 
way up towards Gonzales when I hit my senses.” 
Love’s bright eyes have a look of haunting horror in 
them. But after a moment he continues more calm- 
ly : “I guess I’m the only one alive from that ’ere 
massacree.” 

“And so you knew my father ?” says Miss Godfrey^ 
a tender tone in her sweet voice. 

“Knew him ? Does a pup know the boss dorg of the 
pack? It war only a piece of luck that old Jim God- 
frey war out prospectin’ and locatin’ land when the 
redskins jumped us, or he’d gone up with his outfit' 
also.” The frontiersman looks at the young lady 
again and goes on : “I — I reckon I likewise know 
ye, if ye’re little ’Strella. Don’t ye remember Wild 


98 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Harry, the boy as used to catch birds and cottontail 
rabbits and red squirrels for ye to play with?’' 

“No,” answers Miss Godfrey, looking at him in- 
tently and passing her white hand over her brow, 
“though I’m ’Strella.” 

“No rekellection ? Reckon ye war too young. Why, 
Lord bless ye, I war round when yer little sister war 
run off by the Mexicans or Injuns, in eighteen thirty 
or thereabouts. Ye’ve heerd of her, I calculate?” 

“Yes, I’ve heard of Sybil,” murmurs the girl in sub- 
dued voice. Then she queries, eagerly : “You’ve 
seen my father since his ranch was destroyed ?” 

“Nary a time. Since that cursed Mier Expedition^ 
whar me and the Cap and all of us war nearly rubbed 
out. I’ve been most of the time down on the lower Rio 
Grande pickin’ up cattle and making things even with 
the Yaller bellies,” answers Love. “I’ve got Uncle 
Sammy’s gold in my buckskins now for a lot of steers 
I drove in to-day. Every head of ’em lifted from our 
friends, the Greasers.” This last in the righteous 
tone of duty well performed. 

“Anyway, you’ve got to go with me as far as God- 
frey’s rancho,” rejoins Hampton, earnestly. “You’ve 
got to do it, Harry. It’s a duty you owe to Jim God- 
frey’s daughter.” 

“And I’ll do my duty to Jim Godfrey’s darter, 
not only for her purty face, off which ye can’t keep 
yer eyes, Sharpe Hampton, but because her dad war 
a mighty square man with my dad when I war a little 
boy, and her mammy, God bless her, war very kind to 
my poor ole mummy.” 

“Very well; meet me here at the Goliad House this 
evening,” whispers the Captain, who sees that Estrella 
is quite moved at encountering one who had known 
her father and her mother when she was a little child. 

“Right ye are. Count on me until I’m rubbed out.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


99 


^‘Thank you, Harry,*' remarks Hampton, quietly, 
and knows if he has secured an erratic, half-crazy man, 
that he has also obtained a very sure shot and a very 
true spirit to back him up in his journey across the 
prairies. 

This conversation, held in the open street, has been 
quite private. The music of the guitar and mandolin 
and the song of the girl opposite have kept observation 
from them. 

But now there seems to be a commotion, almost a 
struggle, in the little crowd. The tambourine girl is 
crying: ‘T will speak to him. Caspita, why not? If 
you’re afraid of the Texan Captain, mi patron, Tm 
not, even if he has got his war paint on.” And the 
dancing girl, in the easy dishabille of Mexico made 
more pronounced by the costume of her profession, 
comes running across the street, and holds out a tam- 
bourine, crying, in fairly good English and almost 
without accent: '‘Un peso, senor, for a song and 
dance !” 

A snowy chemisette drapes the upper portion of 
her rounded and yet lithely graceful figure, which 
is that of a young girl, though its scant cut and 
the careless manner of its fastening permit glimpses 
of a nymph-like bosom perfect in its development. 
Her waist is girdled with a bright red sash, from which 
floats a short nagua of brilliant colors scarce reaching 
to the knees, displaying legs graceful as a fawn’s and 
browned by the sun, for they are stockingless, which 
taper into little blue dancing slippers. Her face is 
wrapped coquettishly by the rehoso tapado, or floating 
scarf, with which the Mexican ladies conceal their 
faces. 

As Hampton gazes carelessly at her she says, almost 
droopingly: “Don’t you remember the dancing girl 
to whom two years ago in Matamoras you tossed a 


L.ofC. 


lOO 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


golden doubloon as she danced on the plaza, turned 

away and forgot her? Don’t you remember ” she 

is drawing away archly the rehozo, “don’t you remem- 
ber?” She tosses off the scarf and exhibits deep 
brown eyes flashing in coquettish vivacity. As she 
puts them on Hampton these become languishing, as 
if almost beseeching his recognition. 

“By Jove, Carmelita!” says the Texan, suddenly. 

“Ah, you remember me. Dios mio, you remember ! 
Carmelita is happy,” and she breaks out into a laugh- 
ing Spanish song, then suddenly changes it to that 
sweetest of all Spanish melodies : 

“Cuando me llaman honita, 

El corazon me palpita.” 

And, courtesying gracefully before the Texan Ranger, 
holds out again her tambourine. 

Into it Hampton, with Ranger prodigality, tosses 
a gold piece. 

'‘Cielo, I’ve got the mate of it, the one you gave me 
at Matamoras. I took a few beatings to keep it, but 
I’ve got it still.” 

Miss Godfrey is placing another gold piece in the 
tambourine, but the girl turns from her and says, petu- 
lantly : “No, not from you.” 

“Why not, little one?” 

'‘I only take money from gentlemen. I don’t rob 
ladies. What I get is from the cattle thieves, the 
monte men and the Gringo soldier boys. Like to hear 
their boss tune?” She raises up her voice and begins to 
sing “Molly Is the Gal For Me” with such enthusi- 
asm and abandon, such winks and grimaces, that a 
few of Uncle Sam’s soldiers, who are lounging about, 
join in the chorus and go into an impromptu dance in 
high cavalry boots as the crowd throw money to her. 
When Estrella again would add her douceur she de- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


lOI 


dines, half-angrily : “None from j^ou ; none from 
ladies, only from Caballeros,” then jeers: “If my 

patren over there sees me refuse gold, how he is curs- 
ing poor Carmelita.” Here noting the expression on 
Miss Godfrey’s face, she breaks out almost savagely: 
“Don’t you dare to pity me, Senorita Hidalga!” 

“And why not ?” asks Estrella, looking at the slight, 
graceful, willowy waif of the frontier before her, whose 
eyes have in them a kind of pathetic anguish. 

“Why not? Caramha, because I’m too proud and 
too tough. Besides, I don’t care for the sympathy of 
women. The good sisters up in Chihuahua tried to 
make me a nun, but Los hombres por meT 

Running to Hampton, who is still in consultation 
with Love, she cries : “Come to the fandango to- 
night, Capitano mio. There you’ll see me dance the 
Habanero and the cachucha civilized, wearing silk 
stockings and dressed Paris fashion.” She puts her 
lips to his ear and whispers, “Come,” a pleading in- 
tensity in her voice, “Come ; she won’t miss you for a 
little time.” 

Before Hampton can reply the girl is again dancing 
through the crowd, singing “Molly Is the Gal For 
Me” with even more roguish abandon than before. 
At its close she throws her admirers a mocking kiss or 
two and cries : “Adios, Caballeros, don’t forget Car- 
melita dances to-night at the Bella Union !” She takes 
one quick glance at Miss , Godfrey who stands, the 
exponent of civilization in light semi-tropical trav- 
elling dress, looking daintily nonchalant despite heat 
and dust, and snarls: ''Diablo! wouldn’t I like to pull 
you off your high horse, Doha Hidalga !” Even as 
she jingles her tambourine and skips into the dancing 
hall there are tears in the eyes of the frontier soubrette. 


102 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


CHAPTER VIIL 
‘"to save him, I SPARE HER!” 

During this Harry, who has sauntered to the side 
of Miss Godfrey, is whispering to her effusively and 
proudly in backwoods candor : “Hi-yi, look at Carmelita 
trying to scalp Hampton; the Cap’s always the high 
hand with the gals. But don’t let that worry ye ! 
Didn’t I see two of the purtiest poblanas in San An- 
tone slash each other nigh into cat meat with machetes 
because the Cap wouldn’t look at either of ’em ? Bless 
yer sun-bonnet, Sharpe’s as fastidious with women- 
kind as a coyote is with pizened venison.” 

Apparently this eulogy does not impress Miss God- 
frey over-favorably. As Carmelita makes her adieu 
to the crowd Estrella raises up her voice, a slight cold- 
ness in it, and addresses the object of Wild Harry’s 
encomiums, saying: "T think I’ll go in. Frontier 
gaiety rather fatigues me. Captain Hampton.” 

So passing up the rickety stairway, accompanied by 
the Ranger officer, who has called a negro boy to carry 
her baggage, she reaches the balcony of the Goliad 
House. Here Zelma, having come at her call, she 
points to the bundles and hastily directs : “Pack these 
very carefully for our journey.” Then turning to 
Hampton, she nonchalantly remarks: “I believe you 
said five o’clock in the morning was the hour of our 
departure. At that time you will find Zelma and me 
ready.” The fluttering of dainty skirts indicates she 
has departed. 

To this cool adieu Hampton takes off his hat po- 
litely, and, minus the young lady’s presence, remarks 
ruefully to himself: “Well, I’m hanged! I’ve seen 
northers blow up mighty sudden, but women are quick- 
er.” He comes down the steps rather moodily, to be 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


103 

joined by Wild Harry, who whispers in an impressive 
tone: “Mighty fine gal, that sah! Would be fine 

even in Tennessee,” then goes on, buoyantly: “I’ve 
been say in’ a good word for yer, Cap.” Getting no 
answer to this, he chuckles : “Snakes and ’gators, 
how that dancing gal does hate Jim Godfrey’s lily 
darter !” 

“Why the devil should Carmelita hate Miss God- 
frey?” asks Hampton, savagely. 

“You !” is the curt, but suggestive rejoinder. “Ever 
since down in Matamoras ye saved Carmelita a lickin’ 
from her patron, she’s grown as slick to ye as cata- 
mounts are to catnip.” 

“Nonsense! You’re crazy. Wild Harry!” 

“Not much I Folks think I’m out of my cabeza, but 
I ain’t. I’m only cute, real cute, cute as a coyote; 
that’s all. T’other one’s kinder taken with yer, too,” 
remarks the frontier philosopher, and goes off, leaving 
Hampton gazing after him, his eyes sparkling at his 
last suggestion. 

But the glance of the Ranger Captain grows colder 
as, somewhat later in the evening, he sees loping down 
the street on a dusty and hard-ridden charger hand- 
some young Pelham of May’s Dragoons, who checks 
his horse suddenly in front of the Goliad House, throws 
his reins to the orderly that is following him and, with 
clanking sabre and jingling spurs, springs up the rick- 
ety stairs of the hotel. 

As the dragoon is admitted by Zelma, Hampton 
mutters, sotto voce: “By the Lord, that’s why she 
choked me off so short. Didn’t want my presence to 
put a damper upon young West Point’s honeyed 
speeches,” and grows much more down-hearted than 
he has need to be. 

For the Ranger’s backwoods life, away from the 
artifices, affectations and emotions that give uncer- 


104 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


tainty yet charm to the fair sex, has taught him little 
about the varying moods of maidenhood. Perchance, 
with greater experience he would be happier than he 
is this evening; though he has not heard Wild 
Harry’s panegyric and does not know how good a 
word that harum-scarum frontiersman has said for 
him. 

‘‘Anyway, no matter how she treats me, she needs 
me ! And I’m her man till I’ve placed her safe in her 
father’s arms,” says this knight of the prairies quietly 
to himself. Though as he steps down the street to 
look after his outfit and equipment for the morrow’s 
journey, chancing to light a very fine Havana, he finds 
it extremely bitter to his mouth. 

But Providence has other blows for the Ranger’s 
heart this evening. 

The fifes and drums are sounding the distant reveille 
from Taylor’s Camp. Its baggage- wagons are parked 
ready for morning departure; its provost guard is 
rounding up those absent from the lines without leave 
preparatory to early marching on the morrow. The 
night has fallen upon the frontier outpost town, mak- 
ing it even more repulsive to the eyes of the young 
lady transplanted from the North than it • had been 
in sunshine. 

Still, Estrella is in passingly good spirits as she 
paces the little veranda in front of the Goliad House 
with dashing young Pelham, whose sabre clanks as his 
footsteps accommodate themselves to her shorter ones. 

The young officer has chatted long and earnestly 
with her, telling her of his life on the plains of Ne- 
braska and in the^ wildernesses of Iowa, where he has 
been scouting during most of the two years since he 
saw her at Saratoga. His eyes have spoken more than 
his words, indicating tliat perchance his tongue might 
say a great deal did he not deem it wise to chain it 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


.105 

upon the commencement of a campaign which makes 
it hardly fair to ask a girl to endure the agonies of a 
soldier’s fiancee. 

But Miss Godfrey knows just as well as she did in 
Saratoga what this bright-eyed, handsome fellow 
would say to her. She knows also that she has had 
his heart while he has been away from her, at least she 
thinks she has. This causes her to be tender to him, 
as he asks, anxiously : “You’re sure Captain Hamp- 
ton has made every arrangement for your safe jour- 
ney ?” 

"Certain as that he has the experience to know what 
I require,” replies the young lady. “Why, the Ranger 
has even broken a horse for my special riding with 
skirts, and has taught me to shoot a pistol so I can 
hit the bull’s-eye once in a while. He is making a 
frontier girl of me,” she adds, laughingly. 

At this pleasant information Mr. Pelham looks very 
grave, but says, generously: “Yes, he’s doing the 
right thing by you. He’s probably the very best man 
on the border to make your journey across the 
prairies safe.” 

Just here a corporal dashes up, and saluting, cries: 
“Lieutenant Pelham, the platoon are having a hard 
time up at the General Jackson saloon.” 

The noise of a scuffle between some drunken soldiers 
and the troopers of the provost guard, who are trying 
to round them up, at a neighboring grog shop, pro- 
duces from the girl a slightly frightened exclamation 
and from the officer a mental curse. “You’ll excuse 
me for a moment. Miss Godfrey,” says the dragoon. 
“I’ve got to look after this, but I’ll be back in a min- 
ute.” 

The Lieutenant springs down the steps, leaving Es- 
trella shuddering at the sights and noises of a frontier 
town in the full glory of its faro splendor. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


io6 

The windows of all the gambling saloons are raised, 
the night being hot. From them, the noise of carous- 
ing men and the execrations of losing gamesters come, 
mingled with the laughter of ladies who love every man 
and the jabber of the mixed population, Mexican, 
Yankee, Negro and Mestizo. 

Opposite, the big doors of cheap glass which make 
the front of the Bella Union are thrown wide open. In- 
to it, lured by the music of a Mexican stringed orches- 
tra that is playing a Jullien polka and the strident voices 
of its hurdy gurdy girls, are thronging a motley con- 
course of civilian camp followers of Taylor’s army 
leavened by a contingent of Uncle Sam’s boys who have 
as yet dodged the provost marshal. 

It is but a short thirty yards across the street. The 
oil lamps of the dance house are burning very brightly 
and the sights within it have a kind of weird, uncanny 
fascination for this import from civilization. Looking 
through the wide open doors over the heads of drink- 
ers and roysterers, Estrella sees Carmelita dancing 
with the languishing abandon of the Spanish the soft 
cachucha as she snaps the castenets. 

For a moment the young American lady forgets all 
else except the vivacious charm of the danseuse. For 
bizarre effect, though it is a Spanish dance, Carmelita is 
robed not after the manner of Castile, but after the 
style of Paris. Her brocade frock, silken stockings 
and red satin hottines seem to add to her diablerie. To 
Miss Godfrey the very beauty of the girl makes her 
reckless abandon sadly repulsive. She shudders and 
turns from the sight ; then screams and gazes horrified. 

There are quick flashes of pistols in the dancing hall 
and over their reports the screams of women ; people 
are flying from the open doors of the Bella Union, and 
a man falls wounded in the street below her. 

As this happens, she is suddenlv dragged into the 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


107 


house by an athletic arm; the closing door muffling 
the sounds of a cavalry platoon dashing down the 
street and Pelham’s voice shouting hasty orders to his 
men as they enter the dancing saloon and round up 
Uncle Sam’s deserters and put order in the place. 

“Never look at a fight that you haven’t any business 
v/ith, Miss Godfrey,” suggests Hampton. The crash 
of a window stricken by a bullet emphasizes his re- 
mark. As he leads her back into her room he says : 
“While the scrimmage is going on in the street, I’ll 
show you and your maid how to do up the bundles 
convenient for the pack saddle.” 

“Oh, thank you,” replies Estrella, effusively. “I’m 
afraid our efforts have not been altogether successful.” 

As Hampton aids the young lady in her arrange- 
ments, they are interrupted by Him Jones, who, after 
rapping on the door, comes in and says : “That provost- 
marshal Lieutenant is out on the veranda. He asked 
me to tell you that as he doesn’t like to leave his men, 
Miss Godfrey, he’d be almightily obleeged if you’d jest 
step out and say good-bye to him before he rides off 
to the Rio Grande.” 

“Of course, I will,” cries Estrella, and passes has- 
tily from the room, leaving the Ranger still engaged 
with her baggage. 

As she steps on to the veranda, the town has grown 
normal once more, judging by the twanging of the 
mandolins and guitars that greet her from the Bella 
Union dance house. 

Leaving his orderly waiting for him with his charger, 
the young officer runs up the steps very eagerly to the 
side of the young lady. “I hope this wretched trou- 
ble in the dance house didn’t alarm you. Miss God- 
frey,” he says, deprecatingly. “It won’t occur again, 
as we’ve gathered in about every man without leave 
in the town,” adding severely: “I rather imagine 


Io8 THE SPY COMPANY. 

there’ll be some bucking and gagging up at the guard- 
house for this ; but I’m awfully sorry for the row !” 

“And why?” This is a very rash question from the 
young lady. 

“Because it will shorten the time I had to say good- 
bye to you,” answers the Lieutenant, his voice growing 
so tender that it startles his listener. “I am compelled 
to report this affair at headquarters. Some drunken 
troopers have seriously injured two or three teamsters. 
So as I’ve only a minute with you, I’m going to make 
the best of it.” 

They are standing well in the shadow of the build- 
ing. The sign of the “Army of the Rio Grande Sa- 
loon” projecting partly over this balcony from the next 
building, shields them from the observation of the 
street. 

Miss Godfrey sees enough in the young fellow’s eyes 
to warn her not to ask : “How ?” But not waiting for 
the question, Charley proceeds to answer it with West 
Point strategy. He whispers : “It wouldn’t be right 
to tell you how much I feel, now that I’m going cer- 
tainly to battle, perhaps to death ” 

“Oh, don’t say that !” cries the girl, drawn by this 
artful touch into tender voice. 

“Thank you for that tone,” answers the young man 
in enthusiastic ardor. “You’re kinder to me now than 
you were at Saratoga. Then you pleaded the child. 
Now that you are a woman — you remember I told you 
I would bring back your souvenir!” He pulls from 
his breast the piece of the American flag. “I’ve car- 
ried it here in Indian skirmishes up on the Missouri 
-and it has been my fetich. I’ll wear it on my heart 
down on the Rio Grande, and if I come back. I’ll see 
if you won’t give me for it what I want most in all this 
world.” 

Few young girls are wholly adamant to such a 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


lOQ 

Speech, when uttered by a long moustachioed, shoulder- 
strapped fellow of gallant bearing and flashing eyes, 
especially when he is going to battle and perchance to 
cruel death. Under the softness of the Texan night, 
the strains of the mandolins and guitars playing soft 
Spanish melody from the Bella Union, with only two 
friends in this place so cut off from the world she has 
just left, Estrella feels the sadness of parting with 
even one of them and her beautiful eyes fill with tears. 

Gazing upon her delicate loveliness, the exquisite 
refinement of this fair exile from civilization, made 
more striking by the strange setting of this shanty 
frontier town, the young officer grows very ardent ; 
he whispers, his heart in his voice : “Say to me ‘Come 
back.’ ’’ Receiving no answer, he pleads again : “Say 
to me ‘Come back from battle.’ ” 

“Oh, don’t talk of that. Of course, I — I hope you’ll 
come back,” falters the young lady, her eyes full of 
troubled sympathy, for in imagination she sees the 
stricken field and this handsome fellow lying dead upon 
it. 

“God bless you for the words! God bless you and 
— good-bye.” The dragoon’s tone and manner are so 
impulsively possessive, she bashfully droops her head 
and lowers her eyes. As she does so her forehead is 
touched by two eager burning lips and brushed by a 
long moustache. Before she can either protest or dis- 
sent, a swinging clash of the door on the balcony in- 
dicates the advent of the Texan Captain. Through the 
panes of glass in its upper panel, he has seen what has 
indicated more than it should. He says quietly : “Miss 
Godfrey, I have made up your baggage with your 
maid into bundles suitable for the pack saddle of the 
mule. I think there is nothing further for me to say 
to you except that to-morrow morning at five o^clock 


1 10 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


I shall be here ready to take you on your way to your 
father. Good evening.” 

He raises his hat and passing quietly down the stair- 
way, stands meditatively in front of the hotel. The 
next moment he is joined by young Pelham, who has 
whispered to Estrella: “Remember my souvenir!” 
and come into the street after the Texan. 

To the Ranger, the young officer says : “Captain 
Hampton, you’re as capable as any man on this fron- 
tier to make Miss Godfrey’s journey across the prairies 
safe. You fortunately are not at present compelled by 
military duty as I am to turn your face to the Rio 
Grande.” 

“No, but I will be mighty soon,” answers the Texan. 
“Don’t doubt our boys’ll be with you before the scrim- 
mage takes place.” 

“Of that I am certain,” answers the dragoon, “for 
we won’t get to work immediately. Uncle Sam’s boys 
are to wait until they’ve been assaulted. Those are the 
orders, I know, from Washington. In fact, every of- 
ficer of the armv has been cautioned not to strike -first. 
Therefore some one has to take the blow. Some 
poor devil, not daring to order his troopers to draw 
sabres or open fire, will have his command destroyed 
and perhaps suffer court martial in order to enable our 
Government at Washington to say: 'We did not in- 
augurate hostilities. The Mexicans began the war.’ ”* 

“Well, we Texans have no orders from Washington. 
Besides, I don’t think you could prevent our boys from 
shooting Greasers at sight, we’ve got so in the habit of 

*This was the actual fate of Captain Thornton of the Dra- 
goons, and he pleaded at Court Martial that his very orders for- 
bade him to make any attack upon the Mexicans until they had 
first assaulted his command. He was acquitted most honorably 
by the Court. Memoirs of a Maryland Officer, by J. R. Ken- 

ly. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Ill 


it,’’ rejoins Hampton grimly, as the dragoon swings 
himself into his saddle. 

But here the light dies away in the Texan’s 
eyes. Turning in his stirrups, Pelham seizes the 
Ranger’s hand, wrings it and whispers : “Hampton, 
you’re going to take the treasure of my life in your 
keeping for delivery to her father. God forever bless 
you for your kindness to her.” As the Captain starts 
back as if the Lieutenant had struck him, Charley Pel- 
ham claps his spurs into his steed and dashes up the 
street, leaving a very heavy heart behind him. For 
Sharpe is extremely simple in matters of love and 
doesn’t reckon upon a young man’s enthusiastic speech 
and doesn’t reason that though Estrella may be very 
precious to Pelham, Pelham may not be so extremely 
precious to her. 

Therefore the Captain of Rangers goes on his way 
very moodily this evening, and as he makes arrange- 
ments for the coming journey, mutters mentally once or 
twice: “I knew it. Anybody could have told that 
up at Taylor’s camp. However, she needs me, and 
when she gets through needing me. I’ll go out and — 
thank God for a bloody war !” 

Of this colloquy. Miss Godfrey, leaning listlessly 
over the balcony, has heard enough to make her furious 
with the fiery Pelham as blushingly she has fled 
towards her rooms, and sank in bashful and 
perturbed dismay upon a chair. She marvels at the 
consternation that is in her as she reflects : “If Hamp- 
ton saw that unexpected salute what will he 
think? And now the crazy words of that impetuous 
boy will make him suspect more!” Her confusion 
is such that she scarce notices Zelma, who in a half- 
hearted way has been sewing upon the Indian tunics 
for their journey on the morrow. 

But her reverie is broken in upon by her maid stand- 


1X2 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


ing frightenedly before her and pleading “For the love 
of mercy, don’t tell your father.” 

Startled, Estrella looks up and asks : “Tell my 
father what?” 

“That I was going to — to run away from you with 
Mr. Yazoo Sam,” falters the girl in agitated voice. 
“Ever since Mr. Him Jones told me I was not to leave 
this room, I knew you had discovered my — ^my foolish- 
ness.” 

“And so your idiotic notion for this gambler made 
Captain Hampton risk his life on the steamboat to pre- 
vent Mr. Yazoo Sam decoying you from me,” cries 
Miss Godfrey, astonished at the anger that rises up in 
her against her bondmaid. 

But her indignation is checked by the appearance 
of the culprit. Were it not for her handsomely devel- 
oped figure and the passion that now and again lights 
her eyes, though her cheeks are very pale, the young 
woman, in her short-skirted soubrette frock, might 
be a child shrinking from uplifted rod, as she 
pleads: “In — in pity for me, don’t tell your father.” 

“Of course, I shall have no secrets from my father. 
Why should I not tell him?” answers her mistress 
impulsively. 

“Because every one here says he — he is the most 
cruel master with his servants in all Texas,” stam- 
mers the octoroon in broken voice with lips from which 
fear has driven even the rich blood of the creole. 

“Nonsense, he is goodness itself!” cries Estrella, 
indignantly. “Those are some lies that frightful Yazoo 
Sam told you to induce you to run away with him.” 
To this she adds: “Why, for Heaven’s sake, if you 
wished to leave me, did you not go, Zelma, when I gave 
you your opportunity in New York? Then I could 
have engaged some woman who would not have wanted 
to desert me here in this wilderness.” 


TtlE SPY COMPANY. 


II3 

“I did not want to leave you then, Madame,” says the 
octoroon droopingly and tearfully. “Believe me, it was 
only after 1 saw Mr. Sam. I had never been made 
love to before by a handsome white gentleman, and 
he had very tender ways.” Though, as she mentions 
the gambler, the red blood of passion is surging in her 
cheeks, crushed by her helpless situation, she pleads 
brokenly : “Don’t — don’t tell your father.” 

Before Miss Godfrey can answer, Mr. Jones comes 
up stairs and with frontier hospitality offers supper. 

“Thank you, nothing to eat this evening,” Estrella 
says rather sadly. “But to-morrow morning, please, 
at half-past four — 

“You’ll have a real cute southwestern breakfast if 
old Sally, my cook, sits up all night to get it,” remarks 
the border landlord. Then noting the drooping ap- 
pearance of Miss Godfrey’s culprit maid, he beckons 
the mistress out in the hall and whispers impressively : 
“Ye’ve diski vered her didos, but jest a light breshing 
with a hickory, and for God’s sake, don’t say nothin’ 
about yer wench’s wanting to run away to your dad. 
Jim Godfrey’s the toughest man with niggers west of 
the Sabine,” and so goes solemnly away, leaving Es- 
trella shocked and stunned. 

“I can’t believe what you say about my father. You 
don’t know him as well as I !” she cries after Jones in 
wounded indignation. But after a moment, coming 
into the room, this young lady, who has gradually dis- 
covered that companionship between her and Zelma is 
a practical impossibility where slavery exists, says; “I 
appreciate the devotion that brought you with me to 
this place. I shall always protect you, Zelma. Though 
I cannot believe my father is the severe man people 
here seem to think him, I shall say nothing to him. 
The episode is forgotten !” 

“Thank you — thank yon,” murmurs her maid, grate- 
fully, and kisses her hand. 


14 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Anyway/' continues Miss Godfrey, “if papa is such 
an ogre, I should be as frightened of him as you. As 
his daughter I owe him obedience and I’m going to 
give him it from my very soul ; my dear father !” 
Tears of anticipation, hope and love well up in her 
beautiful eyes. “Now," she adds in attempted light- 
ness, “let us get our garments ready for to-morrow. 
Perhaps we’ll have an interesting day upon the prai- 
ries." 

Perhaps Miss Godfrey will have an interesting day 
upon the prairies. 

Even at this moment, looking out through a broken 
window from the upper story of one of the saloons 
opposite, the dancing girl is dejectedly disarraying her- 
self of some cheap though gaudy finery used during 
her performance in the evening, and muttering mental- 
ly: “He never came to see me dance. Others ap- 
plauded, but his hands were not there." 

Beside her sits her patron languidly smoking a cig- 
arette. He is a fierce but cunning-eyed Mexican, 
dressed as an extreme dandy of the northern provinces. 
By his side lies a black manga, but at present a cambric 
shirt snowy and fastened with jewelled studs covers 
the upper portion of his lithe, snakelike person. His 
slim waist is belted by a broad red sash, in which is 
stuck a nasty-looking stiletto and a pair of horse pis- 
tols. His legs are cased in silver-mounted calzaneros 
of corduroy velveteen that are tight as his yellow skin 
as far as the knee, but from there are open, coming 
down bell fashion over his feet and permitting white 
drawers to show along the open seams. To his high 
untanned leather boots are strapped heavy, long-rowel- 
led spurs. A broad-brimmed grey sombrero, trimmed 
with a two-inch band of gold bullion, lies ready to his 
hand. 

This Caballero is handling his cigarette with one 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


”5 


brown hand and is counting with the avaricious and 
nervous fingers of the other, the money from the danc- 
ing girl’s tambourine. 

This being finished, as he pockets the silver coins, he 
looks towards the Goliad House and remarks, half to 
himself : “Over there is Don Jaime Godfrey’s daugh- 
ter, the greatest rica in all of Texas. To-morrow 
morning she goes across the prairie, doubtless with lit- 
tle escort.” 

‘'Bueno, you have some fine idea, judging by your 
face,” whispers the dancing girl — “about her?” 

“An idea that will make us rich. The Yankee army 
marches south. She goes towards the north. Canales’ 
troop of voluntarios rancheros isn’t half a night’s ride 
towards the west. What kind of a ransom would not 
Don Jaime pay for his daughter?” 

“Ah, you mean to seize Dona High-horse,” whispers 
the girl, clapping her hands excitedly. “Bravo, she 
who offered me money in his presence, she whom he 
looked at and scarce had eyes for me.” 

‘‘Diablo,” snarls the man, “ you mean the accursed 
Texan Ranger Captain of whom you always think.” 

“And whom you always fear,” breaks in the girl. 
“Whom you, Senor Bandit and Senor White Liver and 
Senor Bully, dare not face lest he will recognize you as 
the bandit who loves flowers yet steals cattle and mur- 
ders the helpless along the Texas frontier.” A smile 
ripples her vivacious features and she cries : “M adre 
mia, how I laugh when I think how he pulled the 
quirta from your hand and thrashed you with it in 
the plaza at Matamoras, the night you were going to 
beat me. That’s two years since. You beat me no 
more. My little stiletto, the last time, was so nearly 
fatal eh, mi amigo?” Then the mocking jeer in her 
voice changes to an eager intensity. “But you want 


Il6 THE SPY COMPANY. 

me to do something that will injure her. I am at 
your service.’’ 

''I wish you to find out who rides with Senorita 
Godfrey to-morrow morning.” 

''Santos, I’ll do it !” answers Carmelita. ''But have 
a care you do your part. Play double with me and I 
shall whisper you are an espia for Carrabijol and Can- 
ales upon the Yankee soldiers. Then how long do you 
think you’ll live, my poor Florito? Cielo, your face is 
as white as your liver now.” As the man shudders from 
her, she says gaily : “I’ll go over and sing a serenade 
to Senorita Yankee and find out who takes care of her 
on the prairie.” 

Picking up her guitar, she runs down the stairs, trips 
across the street, dashes into the Goliad House, gives 
a dainty feminine rap on Miss Godfrey’s door, and 
sings in her sweetest voice a charming little Spanish 
melody. 

As the portal is opened she cries to Estrella : 
“By your eyes, I knew you liked music as I sang to- 
day. Have another song from Carmelita before you 
sleep? Ah, you have a guitar, too. You sing like me. 
Your eyes seemed to pity me to-day.” 

She is about to spring into the room, but the young 
lady from the North looks coldly upon this pretty but 
outre creature in the gaudy finery of a frontier sou- 
brette. 

Actuated partly by Anglo-Saxon indifference and 
partly by what she has heard of this girl’s passion for 
Captain Hampton, she is about to say: “Excuse me 
this evening. I’m tired,” when Carmelita, catching the 
denial of her eye, cries suddenly : “No music ! Like 
to hear the story of a waif of the border, who never 
knew a mother’s kiss, who never knew a father’s 
arms ?” 

“Come in,” says Miss Godfrey, impulsively. “Come 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


II7 

in!” Then she whispers sadly: 'T had a sister who, 
were she alive, might say the same as you. Come in, 
pretty one.” 

“Ha, you’re opening your arms for me. You don’^ 
think I’m a little snake. That’s right; trust Car- 
melita!” and dancing into the room the delicate and 
agile creature almost nestles in Miss Godfrey’s lap, 
and artfully tells her a very sad story of how she had 
no recollection of parents, but had been taken by the 
Good Sisters of Chihuahua, who wanted to make her 
a nun, but that feeling too gay for a convent, she had 
run away, and under the patronage of Florito had be- 
come the most celebrated dancing girl of the north of 
Mexico. '‘Dios, you should see me at fairs in the 
plazas of Monterey and Matamoras. Hum, the men. 
loved me !” she says archly. “The women — ” she 
shrugs her shoulders — “not so much ! But you — ” 
And she gets prattling with Miss Godfrey till she learns 
the details of Estrella’s journey and now doesn’t dare 
to refuse that young lady’s gold. 

But coming from this interview, as soon as Car- 
melita is out of observation of the Goliad House, 
she dashes Uncle Sam’s good double eagle into the 
mud, stamps upon it viciously with both little feet, and 
says: “Not from her! Not from her!” then pauses 
and half reels and sighs brokenly : “My God, he — he 
protects her across the prairies.” 

So coming in before her patron who is eagerly 
awaiting her report, she remarks: “There’s no good 
trying to attack this American young lady, my poor 
Florito. She has a whole company of dragoons to 
accompany her to San Antonio de Bexar.” 

For a moment the Mexican looks disappointed and 
dismayed, then he bursts out at her: “You — you mis- 
erable little liar ! She has nothing of the kind. All of 


Il8 THE SPY COMPANY. 

the Yankee soldiers march south to-morrow. Tell me 
the truth.” 

''Diablo, I have, straight as if I’d sw'orn it on the 
Virgin !” she answers resolutely. 

‘‘You traitor !” He raises threatening hand. 

"Caramha” whispers the girl, “why should I not 
tell you the truth when I hate her because he loves 
her?” 

“Under those circumstances I expect you have,” 
mutters Florito. “But if not — !” He goes away, a 
very nasty threatening in his snaky eyes. 

Looking after him the dancing girl cries to herself : 
^'Santos, how I hate her ; but I love him ! I have lied to 
protect him from those murderous lancers of Canales. 
To save him, I spare her : but Santa Maria, she shall not 
have mi cahallero! I have loved him ever since he 
saved me from Florito’s cruel hand, and loved — ^no one 
else. And yet, Dios de mi alma, under her very eyes 
he tossed his doubloon to me as if I were a beggar.” 

And this girl who had been roguishness and abandon 
and gaiety itself before the guffawing crowd of the 
frontier street, throws herself down upon a dirty couch 
of sheepskin and sobs and sighs as if her sprightly soul 
would leave her beautiful body. 


BOOK III. 


Frontier Chivalry. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE PASSIONS OF THE PRAIRIE. 

The fifes and drums are sounding the reveille and the 
bugles “Boots and Saddles” from Taylor’s camp, as 
Hampton pauses with his outfit in the rear of the Go- 
liad House, thinking it wisest that his exodus with 
his fair charge from this frontier town should be un- 
noticed. 

His caballada consists of a mule and four mustangs, 
including the black mare selected for Miss Godfrey. 
These are all caparisoned in Mexican style, though the 
trappings on Estrella’s steed are of somewhat lighter 
material and more ornamental workmanship than the 
others. To each saddle is attached that useful article 
for prairie travel, the lasso. 

The pack mule, which is the regulation Mexican 
article as regards temper, stubbornness and intelli- 
gence, bears also the regulation Mexican pack saddle 
and is haltered so as to be led by Mr. Love. 

Both frontiersmen are in the full array of the back- 
woods, sombreros and buckskin suits, each of their 
belts holding a brace of heavy revolvers and a long 
buckhorn-handled bowie-knife. Hampton in addition 
has two big dragoon six shooters in his holster, but to 

(” 9 ) 


120 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


leave his arms free for the assistance and guidance of 
I\liss Godfrey, has his rifle slung cavalry fashion over 
his back. Wild Harry carries his long Kentucky wea- 
pon Western style across the pommel of his saddle. 

As Miss Godfrey has promised, she doesn’t keep 
them waiting. Him Jones immediately makes his ap; 
pearance from the back door of the Goliad House, car- 
rying the young lady’s bundles, which he proceeds to 
adjust on to the pack-saddle of the mule, the animal 
as usual flinging his heels about and cutting up in true 
burro fashion. 

As this is being done, two putative Indian girls make 
their appearance and come timidly out of the hotel. 
They are Miss Godfrey and her attendant, Zelma. 

“Geehosh — Nebuchadnezzar!” remarks Mr. Love 
under his voice ; and immediately slings Estrella’s maid 
with free and easy hand upon her saddle and arranges 
it for her, while Hampton with somewhat more cere- 
mony assists Miss Godfrey to mount man-fashion the 
dainty black mare he has selected for her. 

On it Estrella makes a very pretty Indian picture. 
The soft fawn-skin of her tunic, which reaches some- 
what below the knees, outlines her rounded graces of 
bust and shoulders. From beneath its skirts are poked 
out very diffidently tight buckskin leggings, that as 
they taper into the little beaded Indian moccasins, dis- 
play beauties hitherto unknown to the ardent frontiers- 
man. 

“You look quite active and frontier-like,” he says re- 
assuringly as he gazes at the girl, who hangs her head 
bashfully. 

“Oh, I feel light as a fawn,” remarks the dainty 
equestrienne, then adds gratefully : “Thank you, the 
stirrup leathers are just right,” and asks: “What do 
you call my mare ?” as she caresses the graceful black 
head that is turned towards her. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


121 


“Mulefoot,” says the frontiersman. 

“My, what a fimny name. Why do they call her 
that?” 

“Because her hoofs are formed like a mule’s, which 
makes her more sure-footed for your journey,” answers 
the Ranger, patting the mare’s graceful neck also ; like 
all true horsemen, he loves the faithful companions of 
his adventures and his forays. 

“Pistols all right?” he asks earnestly. 

“Yes, I — I think so. I loaded them as you instructed 
me, very carefully,” she remarks as Hampton draws 
the five-shooters from the cases in which they are lying 
on the ground, and examines them carefully. “But I 
didn’t know exactly how to wear them.” 

“I’ll show you.” As he places the belt about her, 
he suddenly pauses and laughs: “I reckon this is 
all of a foot too big for you.” Making the necessary 
hole in the leather, he buckles it about the young lady’s 
delicate waist, blushing like a boy as he does so. 
“You’ve had plenty to eat?” he asks. 

“Oh, yes; pork dodgers, chicken fixin’s, dough do- 
ings and sausages,” she replies. “Mr. Jones took very 
good care of me.” 

Then they ride away, for Harry Love has been equal- 
ly expeditious, Estrella waving a hand ladened with 
grateful thanks towards Him Jones, who, having no 
hat upon his head, pulls his forelock, and says : “Bless 
yer eyes. Miss. Tell yer dad Him Jones has not for- 
gotten him,” and, getting into his house, mutters : 
^“How could I forgit Jim Godfrey when he did me in 
a boss trade ?” 

Hampton and his party don’t take the main street of 
the town, but ride around its outskirts, the Ranger 
not wishing Greaser eyes to see he has the embar- 
rassment of women in his convoy. Out of the town 
they take the well-beaten trail that leads them along the 


122 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


higher lands a little above the shores of the bay west- 
ward towards the ferry on the Nueces River. 

Reaching this in about three-quarters of an hour, 
they find the ferry that has been used in bringing 
droves of cattle to Taylor’s Army still in operation. 
Here, under some oaks and cotton-woods that line the 
river’s banks, they await the return of the boat, which 
is a big scow now on the other side of the river. 
Guided by means of a rope cable stretched across the 
stream, it is coming back to their side ladened with 
cattle. As they stand watching it, a Mexican lolls 
on the bank smoking a cigarette and lazily gazes at 
it also. 

“You’re waiting to take the ferry, senor?” says 
Hampton pleasantly to the man. 

“No, senor; I am here to help drive that band of 
steers, when it is landed, to the commissariat officer of 
the Yankee Army.” The Mexican points to his horse, 
that at some little distance is wandering about, hal- 
tered by his lariat, cropping the grass of the prairie, 
though the grazing is not over good, the ground hav- 
ing been beaten and trampled by the hoofs of the many 
cattle that have crossed in the last few months to feed 
Uncle Sam’s soldiers. 

As Hampton is about to saunter indifferently to- 
wards this animal, the man, springing up, says eagerly 
with the politeness of his nation : ''Quiere a fumar 
Caballero/' proffering a handful of cigarettes. 

''Con guest 0, senor,” replies the Texan, accepting the 
offer with equal politeness. Lighting up, he takes a 
few careless steps towards the horse, then turns away, 
and, apparently no more interested in the Mexican, 
goes to chatting with Miss Godfrey, asking her how 
she has passed the night in the Goliad House. 

“Rather peculiarly,” rejoins the young lady. “I had 
a visit from the dancing girl, who came over and sang 


THE SPY COMPANY. 1^3 

to me and told me of her curious history and unhappy 
life.’^ 

At this Hampton looks astonished, then slightly con- 
cerned, and asks rather sharply: “What did you tell 
her?’’ 

^^Oh, the details of our trip; how in the goodness 
of your heart you had offered, notwithstanding the 
urgency of your ride to San Antonio, to take me 
through the dangers of the prairie to my father’s 
ranch.” Then Estrella’s face grows radiant, she asks 
eagerly : “Don’t you think my father may be 
now at his hacienda, having come up from Matagorda 
when he found I would not join him there?” Her 
eyes have tender tears in them ; she murmurs : “Oh, 
if I could see him at once upon arrival !” 

To this the Texan answers nothing, but hurries their 
embarkation on the ferryboat, which has by this time 
reached their side of the river. Under his directions^ 
the crossing is rapidly achieved, Hampton urging the 
ferrymen to their work by what would seem to Miss 
Godfrey an almost too liberal reward, did it not speed 
her towards her father’s arms. 

During their water excursion, a shadow seems to 
cross once or twice Hampton’s well controlled features. 
He appears to be in deep thought. The moment they 
have landed on the north bank of the Nueces, he takes 
Love with him out of earshot of the young women and 
says: “Did you see that Mexican on the other side 
of the river?” 

“Of course. Cap. Took a purty good look at him, 
too.” 

“Did you notice anything peculiar about him ?” 

“Nothin’ particular; regulation greasy, regulation 
dirty, regulation soft voice, regulation snake.” 

“Yes, but his horse had a brand on it only used south 
of the Rio Grande,” replies Hampton, “in fact, about 


124 


the: spy company. 


the brand that would be on one of Canales’ or Carrabi- 
jol’s horses. Carrabijol himself was in Corpus Christi 
only a day or two ago. His band can’t be any farther 
away than’ll keep ’em safe from Taylor’s outposts. 
Probably about west of here.” 

“Then we’d better travel quick,” mutters Harry, 
“now we’ve got women with us.” 

“Perfectly right !” Hampton steps to Miss Godfrey 
and looking out over the prairie, which now towards 
the west and north is only bounded by the horizon, 
though dotted with its clumps of timber, he says : 
“We’re about a hundred miles from your father’s 
rancho, on a course a little west of north. Pve marked 
it on this pocket compass. Keep that with you ! In 
case by any accident you are separated from me or lost 
on the prairie, follow the direction marked on this com- 
pass, and don’t turn away from it. Remember that. 
Your life may depend upon it.” Then he calls : “Har- 
ry, have you given to Zelma the pocket compass marked 
as I told you and the proper directions?” 

“Yes, Cap, I told her that as we came along.” 

“How does she ride ?” 

“Quite well for a ” Love was going to say 

“Yaller gal,” but the beauty of the octoroon makes him 
say, “for a woman.” 

“Well, her horse is all right. I had the negro boy 
last night accustom it to skirts. Now follow along!” 
and the Captain rides quickly by Miss Godfrey’s side 
out upon the prairie, heading slightly to the west of 
north. “I want to get inland,” he says, “so that when 
we strike the next stream, we will be high enough up it, 
to find a ford. I don’t want to make you swim it on 
horseback.” 

So the mustangs lope over the prairie, which begins 
to seem boundless to Miss Godfrey, as the Bay of Cor- 
pus Christi has entirely passed from her sight, and 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


125 


now on all sides, lying before her is a sea of green, 
dotted here and there with mottes or islands of trees 
of various kinds, pecans, plums, live oaks and syca- 
mores, just springing into their full foliage. 

The morning mist spreading over it, makes the 
scene weirdly fantastic as they pass great clumps of 
live oak covered with the long bearded moss peculiar 
to the Southern States. In the mist of the morning 
these masses of timber assume fantastic shapes and 
curious tints, sometimes looking like mediaeval castles, 
at others gleaming palaces of silver, then glow- 
ing red and gold beneath the Southern sun that is ris- 
ing over them and dispelling the fog. Soon the whole 
park-like landscape under its beams becomes warm and 
bright and radiantly soft. 

Suddenly Estrella utters an exclamation of delight. 
The sea of green is changing into an endless sea of 
flowers, yellow, violet, red and blue. Myriads of 
lovely prairie roses, asters, dahlias and tuberoses give 
out their perfumes to her open nostrils and their varie- 
gated colors to her admiring eyes. Boundless the 
flowery ocean spreads before her, broken here and 
there by the green islands of trees, from which issue 
the songs of myriads of birds — orioles and cardinals 
and chaparral cocks giving out their morning welcome 
to the sun. It is a bright March morning on the Texas 
prairies. 

The green tree mottes are made beautiful by clinging 
grape vines everywhere, and some of them are thickets 
of fruit trees, plums and wild peaches, covered with 
colored blossoms that foretell a harvest of luscious fruit. 
There is no sweeter morsel to the human tongue than 
the wild southwestern plum. 

Enchanted by the sight, the girl goes to prattling 
merrily as she rides beside the rather stern-faced Texan 
Ranger, whose eyes — the sharp eyes of the scout — 


126 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


seem to be restlessly inspecting and investigating every 
feature of the changing landscape. 

“I had quite a curious episode in the Goliad House 
last night, Captain Hampton/’ she says. 

“What was that?” asks the Ranger eagerly. 

“Oh, Him Jones’s cat!” she laughs. “The canvas 
ceiling over my head had holes in it. It was wonder- 
fully weird to see the pussy’s paws come through these 
holes when she would lose her footing as she made an 
all-night’s hunt for the rats and mice that scrambled 
about over my head. I would have been frightened if 
I hadn’t become a — frontier girl. Poor Zelma was ter- 
rified at the creature.” Then Miss Godfrey whispers : 
“From what Mr. Jones said to me, and from the direc- 
tions you gave my maid yesterday, you must have 
known of her foolish escapade with Mr. Yazoo Sam. 
Please don’t mention it to my father if you meet him.” 

Hampton glances back at the octoroon, whose hand- 
some though delicately voluptuous figure is well dis- 
played by the buckskin tunic, and some stories that he 
has heard of Jim Godfrey coming into his mind, he 
says pointedly: “Most certainly.” 

“Thank you. Captain Hampton,” returns Estrella, 
adding earnestly : “I don’t want you to have a 
bad opinion of Zelma. She doesn’t deserve it.” And 
as they ride along, she tells him of her maid’s devotion 
in following her from New York. 

As his companion talks, she gives many glimpses of 
her lovely soul and the Texan Captain grows even 
more tender to this beautiful creature who is so de- 
pendent upon him for protection. Even as he listens 
to her, his every sense is on the alert to keep her very 
safe. 

But the scene made pleasant by the low songs of 
humming birds and the humming of innumerable bees, 
elates the girl and makes her confident. She says: 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


127 


“This is one of the flower prairies of which you told 
me on the steamboat, isn’t it, Captain Hampton?” and 
looking around, cries : “As if there could be danger 
here!” 

Just then there is a little sker-r-r a few paces to one 
side of her. For answer, the Ranger silently points 
towards a cactus bush. She gives a little scream of 
horror and shudders : “Heavens and earth, isn’t that 
a — a rattlesnake?” 

“Yes. You see it isn’t all quite as secure as it looks. 
There are other beasts that will do you to death in 
those canebreaks.” He points to his right hand, where 
a line of timber indicates a watercourse. “At night 
you’ll hear the howling of the jaguars in that chapar- 
ral, and even now, — listen! You notice that rooting 
and grunting? That comes from the little wild hog, 
the peccary, as plucky a brute as walks the earth. Kill 
one, and you’ve got to slay the whole drove, or they’ll 
tear you in pieces as sure as they’ve white tusks.” 

Under the frontiersman’s instructions, the girl be- 
comes impressed also with the animal life about her. 
His quick hand indicating them, she notices the in- 
numerable deer that they disturb, grazing, some of 
their herds numbering hundreds.* 

They have ridden not more than three hours when 
Hampton says : “I reckon we’d better stop and give 
you a rest.” 

“Why, I’m not tired,” she answers, rather indig- 
nantly. “I’m accustomed to horse-back exercise.” 

“Yes, but your maid isn’t,” he replies. “Besides, 
this is the proper time to rest and graze our horses. 
We won’t go on until the extreme heat of the day is 

*In passing through Southern Texas in 1846, the prairies 
seeiued literally alive with deer, it was no uncommon spectacle 
to see from one to two hundred in a single \\txA.—Captam 
Randolph B. Marcy, in The Prairie Traveller, 


128 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


past.” With this he calls to Love : “Harry, best get 
something nice for the young lady to eat.” 

“Sartin sure,” replies the Ranger, and turns his horse 
off towards the line of timber that indicates a little 
watercourse. 

A few minutes after by a little rivulet that runs slow- 
ly over the level prairie, Hampton stops his cavalcade, 
and assisting Miss Godfrey and Zelma from their mus- 
tangs, he places some blankets in a little secluded nook 
under a cottonwood and says : “Take a siesta while I 
fix things.” Gazing out from her leafy bower Estrella 
can see the easy grace with which he hitches the ani- 
mals by their riatas in such manner that they can get 
plenty of good grazing, and taking their baggage off 
the pack mule, makes preparations for a mid-day camp, 
kindling in a hollow a fire of dry wood so as to give 
out as little smoke as possible. 

Zelma has proffered her assistance, but Hampton 
says to her considerately: “No, you’re too tired, my 
poor girl. Do what you can for your mistress, and then 
lie down yourself. I can get a frontier meal a good 
deal easier than you can.” 

He is busied about these things, as Wild Harry 
comes loping up on his mustang carrying in his hand 
a fine young wild turkey; across his saddle hangs a 
two-pronged buck. 

“Reckon here are some nice things for yer white 
teeth,” he chuckles to Miss Godfrey, “This gobbler is 
as tender as chicken” ; then cries : “Let me do the 
chores. Cap, while you rummage up some sweet doin’s 
for the prai-ha-rie princess.” With this Mr. Love goes 
to butchering and dressing the game. 

Half an hour afterwards, Miss Godfrey is aroused 
from her siesta to be astounded at a backwoods meal. 
“Didn’t know ye could get such nice things on the 
prairie, did yer? Try yer teeth on this ere ven’son 


tHE SPY company. 


1^9 


steak. No, filled up on turkey?” remarks Wild Harry, 
during the repast, “Keep a hole in ye for the strawber- 
ries.” 

“Strawberries?” 

“Yes, and honey. Look here,” and the frontiers- 
man laughs as Hampton produces from a lot of big 
leaves into which he has gathered them, a pile of 
freshly plucked, red, juicy prairie strawberries that 
have ripened under the hot Southern sun. 

“And — and honey ?” says the young lady, her pearly 
teeth crunching some combs full of sweetness. 

“Why, yes,” remarks Wild Harry. “Bless yer heart, 
didn’t ye know every tenth tree about here is a bee tree ? 
Didn’t ye hear hummin’ ’nough in the air? Waugh! 
Ye’d go through the prairies and starve to death with 
plenty around ye.” 

During this Hampton has said little, some problem 
• of travel apparently being in his mind, but Miss God- 
frey has several times turned grateful eyes upon the 
Texan Captain, not only for the consideration with 
which he has anticipated her every want, but for the 
generous courtesy that Zelma has received at his hands, 
her maid’s comfort being looked after as carefully as 
if the octoroon were a fine lady. 

Consideration of Zelma puts an idea into her mis- 
tress’s vivacious brain. She turns to Wild Harry and 
asks, a slight hesitancy in her manner and almost a 
pleading in her voice: “Mr. Love, you know my 
father very well ; is he a very stern and severe man ?” 

“Why, bless ye, he’s as kind a fellow as ever was 
good to a frontier boy,” answers Harry so enthusi- 
astically that Miss Godfrey’s face lights up with pleas- 
ure. She nods smilingly at Zelma, whose eyes have 
grown very anxious at her mistress’s question, and 
cries reassuringly : “You see I” 

As they finish the meal Hampton suggests : “We’d 


150 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


better cook enough to last us for a day or two. By 
to-night we’ll be getting in the range of the Comanches 
coming up from foray across the Rio Grande, and it 
may not be prudent to light a fire. I saw what were 
smoke signals, I think, to the north of us.” 

“So did I, Cap,” returns Wild Harry, “but didn’t 
cackle about it, reckonin’ they were mirages.” 

“Of course, they were very faint, and I may have 
been mistaken. They must have been nearly thirty 
miles away,” replies Hampton. “But it’s best to be 
safe.” His glance has concern in it as he turns to Miss 
Godfrey and says: “I don’t want to alarm you, but 
you should know what may be before you.” 

As he leads her horse up to her Estrella holds out 
her little moccasin to place it in his hand for him to 
put her in the saddle. But he astonishes her by say- 
ing : “it would be more than pleasant to do you the 
service. Miss Godfrey, but I want you to learn to take 
care of yourself here.” 

“So you won’t assist me into the saddle?” she asks, 
a slight moue giving piquancy to her face. 

“On the prairie a woman who can’t mount a horse 
by herself is at times mighty helpless. Just try to get 
on your mare man- fashion, so as to be independent of 
me.” He holds Mulefoot very carefully and instructs 
her how to put her foot in the stirrup and swing her- 
self into the saddle. 

After a little he suggests : “Do it without my hold- 
ing your mare. Do it all by yourself, as if you were 
out alone in the wilderness.” 

In a few essays. Miss Godfrey succeeding in this, he 
says with a slight sigh: “Now you’re more back- 
woods.” For this lesson in equestrianism has been a 
very pleasant one to the riding master; several times 
his hand has touched that of his fair pupil. 

“Yes, I feel as if civilization were a hundred thousand 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


I31 

miles away from me!” cries the girl. “Wild turkeys 
and deer I Some day you must teach me to shoot with 
a rifle so I can do nly own hunting.” 

The “some day” seems very pleasant to Hampton. 
It suggests that the beautiful creature by his side 
thinks he will not pass out of her life entirely with this 
prairie ride. Then the words of Pelham, the dragoon, 
come back to him and make the future look very blank. 
He calls shortly : “Love, have you put Zelnia into the 
saddle?” Next suddenly exclaims: “Where’s Wild 
Harry?” 

“Mr. Love rode back on the trail,” answers the octo- 
roon. 

“And I did not hear his horse’s hoofs,” mutters the 
Texan Ranger in a dazed way. “What’s come into 
my ears ?” Miss Godfrey, who is already mounted, is 
blushing slightly. 

The next moment Hampton is once more alert. “If 
Love rode back on the trail, he’s seen something,” he 
says as he hastily swings Zelma into her saddle and 
goes to packing the mule with a cool but wonderful 
dexterity. 

This he has not finished before Love makes his ap- 
pearance. Riding in from behind a timber motte, he 
cries : “Cap, there’s somebody coming after us along 
the trail !” 

“Who?” 

“Can’t tell.” 

“How many?” 

“Only one.” 

“Are you sure there is only one?” 

“Certain as I’m chawing terbaccy I It’s too far off 
for me to make him out, but I can see him every time 
he gets out into the air line as he passes the timber.” 

“Very well. We’ll wait for him.” says Hampton, 
laying his hand upon Miss bridle, for she 


132 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


l:as rather timidly and excitedly started to ride off. 
“Don’t you think Harry and I are good for one?’' he 
laughs. 

“Yes, for twenty of them,” she answers confidently. 

“Just ride back, Harry, a little bit and see who it is, 
and also that there is no one following him. Be 
mighty careful of that !” directs Hampton, and fin- 
ishes leisurely the packing of the mule. 

Five minutes after Wild Harry rides in again. He 
says: “Golly, here’s news for ye!” 

“There are more following him?” asks Hampton 
quickly, and springs into his saddle. 

“No — but perhaps thar ought ter be,” chuckles Love. 
“Sure as snakes ain’t ’gators, it’s a woman that’s trail- 
ing us.” 

“You’re crazy !” 

“No, I ain’t; Fm only cute. I kin see the flopping 
' of her skirts.” 

A minute or two afterwards Hampton, returning 
from personal observation, says :* “Blazes, you’re 
right !” then mutters in perturbed tones : “It’s Car- 
melita.” • 

“The — the dancing girl!” ejaculates Miss Godfrey, 
a curious look coming over her face. 

“And jumping jerrico, how she is cornin’ ! Can’t 
keep away from ye. Cap, can she?” cries Love, jovially. 
“Didn’t I tell ye, Miss Godfrey, he war always ace high 
with womankind?” 

At this Estrella can see the Texan Captain bite his 
lip beneath his mustache and give Mr. Love a decidedly 
unpleasant glance for his panegyric, as he directs sharp- 
ly: “Take post upon our backtrail and see no cursed 
Greasers are sneaking after her. She’s hand-and-glove 
v/ith half the bandits on the border.” 

As Wild Harry turns his mustang away Carmelita 


.THE SPY COMPANY. 


133 


dashes past him, bringing with her into this quiet, green 
prairie glade passion undisciplined, unbridled. 

Mounted upon a mustang whose sides are throbbing 
and whose parched tongue is hanging out between his 
lips, the perspiration and dust of rapid travel upon her 
excited and piquant features, she sharply reins up her 
steed upon his haunches before the Texan, and pants : 
“Thank God, I Ve — Tve overtaken you !“ 

Here Miss Godfrey is almost shocked at the stern- 
ness with which Hampton greets the dancing girl. 
“Well, what are you following us for?” asks the Ran- 
ger Captain, coldly and shortly. 

“O Dios mio, you speak in that tone to me — when 
I have ridden risking my life to save yours !” wails the 
girl, still struggling for breath. ''Santos, you’re cruel.” 
Her dark brown eyes blaze in a kind of agony. 

“To save my life! What do >ou mean?” 

“This,” answers Carmelita, a low, despairing misery 
in her liquid voice, and her speech broken in its Eng- 
lish accent by the terrible exertion of her ride and per- 
chance the excitement that is in her. “This ! Last 
night an espia of Carrabijol, he came to me; he say: 
‘Catch her, the American heiress. Go over to the 
Goliad House and see who rides with her on the prairie 
to-morrow, and if she is easy prey.’ Then I go over. 
I ask; I inquire.” 

“And you have told? God forgive you!” screams 
Estrella. 

“No. I go back. I say : Tt is no good. The 
Yankee donna has two companies of dragoons to ride 
with her to San Antonio, Taylor’s boys that you fear.’ 
To myself I say : ‘Hampton goes with her. Now I 
have saved him. There will be no pursuit.’ But this 
morning I find the espia — he is so cunning — he has dis- 
covered that only two men go with the Americana. 
He doesn’t know what two men, or perhaps he be 


134 


THE SPY COMPANY. . 


frightened. But the man from the ferry that he keep 
there to find out, come riding back and tell him only 
two Caballeros ride with the American girl.” 

“The damned cigarette smoker!” mutters Love, who 
is not out of earshot. “Whaugh, when I draw bead 
on him he’ll watch the ferry over the Jordan, he will !” 

“Then when the spy hear,” breaks out Carmelita, 
“he ride to the west. You know what that means. 
Carrabijol is there or Canales with their cruel ranchero 
lancers.” 

“How many?” asks Hampton. 

“Oh, a hundred, perhaps. Perhaps more ; too many 
for two men, no matter how brave. So as soon as 
the spy is out of sight, I ride — ride to save you, to tell 
you; that’s all. And you’ve treated me cruelly. Now 
I go back.” 

“No, you won’t go back !” commands Hampton, “not 
over that prairie alone, unattended. Believe me, I 
thank you.” 

“Bah, thank herr cries Carmelita, waving her hand 
savagely at Miss Godfrey, who is gazing with dis- 
tressed eyes upon the scene. Then she continues des- 
perately : “It is but a three hours’ ride. I must get 
back and be dancing my bolero in the Bella Union. 
Should the espia guess that I have warned you, it would 
be my death ; not only his machete, but the knife of 
every bandit in Northern Mexico would be sharpened 
for my heart.” 

“Yes, I think you’re about right,” remarks Hampton 
After a moment’s consideration. “If you’re sure you 
can return?” 

“I must. I dare not stay. Even you, my brave 
Texan Captain, couldn’t protect me from Canales and 
Carrabijol, because you couldn’t be everywhere.' I 
must go. Adios! Next time a woman risks her life 
for you don’t look at her coldly and say: ‘Why do 


THE STY COMPANY. 


135 


you follow me?’ even if my coming make the girl, 
whom you cannot look in the face, jealous of me, this 
Northern lily' I had meant to betray. But when it 
gave my handsome Texan Ranger to death, then, ca- 
ramba, I had a conscience !” 

For one moment she makes a picture of passion tre- 
mendous, despairing, helpless, but very lovely, in the 
gaudy trappings of the Mexican horsewoman, as she 
sits like a portion of her steed, her eyes glowing yet 
sorrowful as they rest on Hampton, and sighs : ^'Dios 
de mi alma, querido — querido mioT The next she 
cries savagely: "‘VamosT claps her spurs into her 
horse and dashes back along the trail towards the south. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE smugglers’ TRAIL. 

Having placed a burning brand between these two, 
Carmelita has flown away, leaving behind her the si- 
lence of the wilderness. Her sad, despairing voice has 
even awed Mr. Love. The only noise that strikes Miss 
Godfrey’s ears is the cawing of a crow that seems en- 
raged at human presence ; as for the young lady’s eyes, 
they are turned towards the ground, confusion and 
modesty almost make her sway in the saddle. 

Fortunately now, hurried action compels Hampton 
to ignore all else but his young charge’s safety. Life 
and death have precedence of even passion. 

For a moment the Texan gazes shamefacedly after 
Carmelita and mutters to Harry: “Yes, it’s best. 
The Greasers must not guess she has brought word 
to us. No danger will come to her. Canales’s ranch- 
eros riding up from the southwest cannot possibly in- 


136 


TKE SPY COMPANY. 


tercept her. They’ll not reach our trail for twenty 
miles ahead of where we are.” He thinks for a mo- 
ment, then cries : “Love, shin up one of those oak trees 
and see if you can still make out the Indian smoke sig- 
nals to the north.” 

Harry, throwing himself off his horse, goes up a 
live oak as quickly as a squirrel, and a minute after 
reports: “Yes, I kin see ’em, though, of course, 

they’re awful faint,” and a moment after calls : “They 
are smoke signals sure as bacon is fat !” 

Coming down the tree, he holds a hurried consulta- 
tion a little apart with the Captain. At Hampton’s 
words Miss Godfrey can hear Love chuckle : 
“Whaugh, won’t it be slick, sicking a panther on a 
grizz’ly ?” 

“Quick, Harry,” says the Captain, “ride over to the 
west and see if you can find the trail of the Indians. 
If they’re coming up from the Rio Grande you should 
cross their track about six miles from here at the low- 
est ford on the Nueces. Find out their numbers and 
all about them. Meet me on the old Tobacco Smug- 
glers’ trail.” 

As the Ranger takes his pace rapidly towards the 
west, Hampton, now leading the pack mule, rides along, 
followed by Miss Godfrey and her maid. 

The gait of their horses is sufficiently easy to permit 
Estrella some conversation with him. Though she 
cannot force her eyes to meet the Texan Captain’s, she 
falters : “You’re — you’re riding towards the Indians. 
You dread the Mexican lancers more than you do 
them ?” 

“Well, it’s about a toss-up,” remarks Shaipe, 
“though the Conianches will trail us with more cer- 
tainty than the Mexicans.” 

“Then why go towards them ? Keep between them, 
run away from both.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


137 


“Oh, I want Canales’s band to follow us.” 

“What?” 

“Miss Godftey, I propose to make Indian neutralize 
Greaser. In a few hours you’ll see Mr. Love and me 
do it. Now, don’t let the matter worry you ; only be 
sure that no harm will ever come to you until Sharpe 
Hampton goes under.” 

The Ranger’s face has a curious set expression on 
it, but trying to turn her mind from the dangers of her 
situation he gets to chatting to Estrella about the coun- 
try through which they are passing, telling her of the 
old Tobacco Smugglers’ trail he proposes to take ; how 
it was made before the days of Texan independence 
by wild contrabandists coming from Matagorda down 
through Goliad of bloody memory to the Mexican 
towns on the Rio Grande, tobacco bearing a very high 
import duty from the Mexican Government. To her 
he relates some curious anecdotes of how the smug- 
glers used to hire the alcaldes of the pueblos to let 
them sell their contraband cigars ; that sometimes after 
the trade had been finished the alcalde, overcome by 
fear or conscience, denounced them to officers in com- 
mand of the Mexican troops, who took away all the 
contrabandist’s gains. In that case the smugglers 
generally knifed the alcalde,” he laughs. “Now the 
trail is only used by cowboys.* In fact, Taylor’s army 
has been supported for the most of the last five months 
by Mexican beef, a thing that doesn’t make the 
Greasers feel very pleasantly towards us.” 

As they lope along he goes to pointing out honey 
trees to his exquisite companion, telling her how the 

* “Cowboy” was the term at that time applied to the wild 
Texas man who rode down to the Rio Grande and looted 
Mexican stock, quite often massacring the vacqueros who tried 
to defend it. Their plunder was driven for sale to San Antonio 
and even at times supplied the market of Galveston.— 


^38 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


bee-hunters discover them by catching a few of the 
insects and watching their flights, which are always 
in straight lines, that where two lines oj^ flight inter- 
sect there must be the bet tree. “That’s the way 
Harry found that honey-comb, I reckon, that you en- 
joyed at lunch,” he continues. “And look here! If 
you’re lost, there’s no danger of your starving in this 
part of the world. Two months from now there’ll be lots 
of -the finest plums and peaches. At present, here are 
all the strawberries you want; only look out for a 
sunny mound and put aside the long grass, and you’ll 
get enough to support you for a day or two.” 

Then he gets to telling the young lady anecdotes of 
frontier life, describing to her the celebrated “Old 
Aunt Beck,” who used to keep a tavern on the Smug- 
glers’ Trail, up towards Refugio, where the fight was 
made in the mission church by the Texan boys, “the 
little brothers” the men called them ; that some of these 
lads hardly strong enough to carry a rifle held the 
mission yard against the assaults of Mexican Reg- 
ulars under Urea, until compelled to draw off by 
Ward’s orders, they had to leave three of the children 
who were wounded; and then the Greasers entered 
the churchyard and cut the little fellows’ throats. 

By this time the young lady has grown so interested 
in and so impressed by his conversation that she has 
forgotten Carmelita’s insinuation, and her eyes again 
meet the Texan’s, though once or twice they droop 
under his earnest gaze. In fact, the very incidents of 
travel compel intimacy with her cavalier. 

Twice he stops and gets water for his charge; like- 
wise taking the same good care of Zelma. Once, 
noting the china doll delicacy of the attendant, he asks, 
very seriously, if she can support the ride. “Yes, any- 
thing to save me from the Indians 1” shudders the octo- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


139 


roon. But, unaccustomed to the saddle, Zelma has 
grown very weary. 

As for Miss Godfrey, the horseback exercise she has 
almost daily taken in New York now does her very 
good service, and she rides on quite buoyantly and 
easily, though there is an eager anxiety in her as she 
notes the Texan’s eyes every moment searching the 
horizon. 

On one or two occasions he halts the young women 
and walks slightly in advance to some ridge in the 
prairie, where he can take observation, for he keeps 
their horses in the low swales, protected from view as 
much as possible by the mottes of timber, though the 
mustangs’ hoofs in the soft soil make deep imprints. 

“Can the lancers not follow our track very easily?” 
whispers Estrella, nervously, to him as they ride. 

“Yes, I want them to.” 

“Oh, goodness !” She can’t repress a slight shud- 
der of her graceful shoulders. 

“Canales coming after us will strike our trail about 
here, I think, two hours from now,” Hampton ob- 
serves, but most of the time his gaze is directed ahead 
of them. Once, assisting Miss Godfrey from the sad- 
dle, he leads her on foot into a copse of plum trees 
rather higher than the rest. Here, her mentor point- 
ing cautiously to the north, she can just descry two 
faint columns of vapor a few miles apart from each 
other that are at times curiously intermittent. “The 
signals of the Comanches,” he says. “Remember that 
v/henever you see smoke coming up irregularly as if 
at times it were restrained, it probably means Indian 
signals. The accursed savages craftily hold their blan- 
kets over the fire and let the smoke out in puffs of 
varying sizes, telegraphing their movements to each 
other.” 

All the time their speed is kept at about a certain 


40 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


rate, as if the Ranger meant to make a certain point 
at an exact time. About half an hour after this he 
turns his horse sharply to the north and says to Miss 
Godfrey: ‘‘The Smugglers’ Trail.” 

“The Smugglers’ Trail? I don’t see anything of it.” 

“No, but it’s easy enough to a frontiersman’s eyes. 
Look, the old hoof marks off there in the dry adobe. 
Notice how the ground is worn down a little lower 
than the rest of the prairie, though the grass is grow- 
ing on it? But see, here comes Love!” Hampton 
points two miles off towards the southwest. 

“My, how he’s riding!” cries the neophyte in wood- 
craft. “Carefully, too. He’s turned off out of his 
course, because it would lead him into the open prairie 
and is coming round that island of pecans. Still, how 
did you first get your eye on him at so great a dis- 
tance ?” 

“Why, didn’t you see that herd of deer run out of 
that copse ahead of Harry?” remarks the Texan. 
“Wild animals by their movements often tell you what’s 
going on. In this well-stocked country always dis- 
trust a trail upon which you see no game. It’s almost 
a sure sign Indians are near it.” 

Ten minutes after Love overtakes them. “I found 
the Comanche trail going to the north,” he says, terse- 
ly. “They spread at the crossin’ of the Nueces into 
two bands, one about forty, t’other nigh onto thirty 
warriors. That’s thar smoke signals up north.” 

“What time did they pass the river?” 

“Just after sun up. The dew v^^as on the grass when 
their ponies went over it, and no dew has fallen on it 
since. They’ve been down on the Rio Grande; got 
some captives with them, and plunder. Led horses 
were plentiful.” 

“Driving any cattle?” asks Hampton, sharply. 

“Nary a hoof !” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Ur 

■‘Thank God,” answers the Texan. “Then they 
won’t hesitate to come on the back trail. Did you see 
any Greaser sign?” 

“Wall, I kinder think I did. Cap. Just after I left 
the Nueces I got a good view of open prairie to the 
south. On its horizon I caught the flicker of a lance- 
head or some bright arms, but oh, an awful long way 
ofif!” 

“Then we’re about midway between the Greasers and 
the Comanches,” replies Hampton. “We’ll travel on 
kinder slow.” He looks up to the sun. “About three 
hours more of it ! We’ll give the Greasers just twenty- 
five miles to follow us. That’ll make it about a little 
after dark when they overtake us, and then- ” 

“Whaugh,” guflfaws Harry, “if we kin do it.” 

“We’ve got to do it !” mutters Hampton, looking at 
his delicate charge. “She could never stand a ride of 
perhaps a hundred miles to distance the Comanches. 
Those Greaser lancers are a God’s gift to us.” 

Soon Miss Godfrey, watching their movements, sees 
that time enters into all the calculations of these men. 
Several times as they journey on Hampton glances at 
the sun. About an hour before sunset he says : 
“Harry, now’s our time. Miss Godfrey, you’ve got to 
travel fast. Go loping through the soft places. Make 
a good broad trail.” Urged by him, the party proceed 
quite speedily for five miles. 

All the time the Indian smokes are growing nearer. 
Getting beside Hampton, Estrella whispers with pal- 
lid lips: “We are riding right onto the Comanches. 
Don’t yon see their smoke — only five miles away ?” 

“Yes, they have been hunting or camped, taking a 
rest from their long foray. Their ponies’ll be quite 
fresh this evening. So much the worse for our 
Greaser friends,” says Sharpe dryly. 

“So much the worse for us! You’re — ^you’re not 


142 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


going nearer them ?” pleads the girl in frightened tone., 

“Well, just a little.’' But soon the Ranger doesn’t 
seem to care to take any greater chances. “There may 
be some outlying braves hunting deer,” he mutters. 
“Best no farther, Harry. Now turn around and race 
to that big live oak about three miles back. The one 
I pointed out to you about thirty yards from that cane- 
brake chaparral,” he whispers to Miss Godfrey. 

“But the Indians — they will discover our trail, they 
will follow us.” 

“I want them to follow us.” 

“What!” 

“Don’t get excited. Watch!” For the first time 
this grim day the Captain chuckles slightly. 

They have raced back to the live oak tree. “Now, 
Harry, hide our tracks!” he commands. 

With this the Rangers spring off their horses and 
throw all their blankets and horse clothes on the 
ground, not even exempting Miss Godfrey’s. With 
these they carpet the seventy-five feet of ground from 
the trail to the canebrake. They have selected the 
spot very carefully. It is one where there is but little 
or no grass to be pressed down. 

Over these blankets each horse is carefully led and 
secreted in the rank canebrake of prickly pears, cacti 
and mesquite bushes that borders a swamp through 
which runs a little stream, probably a tributary to the 
Aranzas. 

“Now, Harry, the fire before it is too dark for both 
Indians and Greasers to see the smoke. Put plenty 
of wet wood on.” 

Mr. Love, gliding out over the blankets carefully, 
takes off his moccasins and travels quickly to a place 
just off the Smugglers’ Trail that might be selected by 
a careless camping party. 

From here in a minute or two rises a high column of 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


43 


dense smoke easily discernible in the red rays of the 
setting sun. 

“Mercy, it will bring both lancers and Indians upon 
us!” whispers Miss Godfrey. 

“Yes,” says Hampton, with a grim smile, “both’ll 
come racing to it.” 

“And then, whaugh 1” chuckles Wild Harry, who 
has returned to them, obliterating with great circum- 
spection every indication of their movements, even 
blowing up with the breath of his lips the blades of 
grass as each blanket is removed and concealed in the 
canebrake. 

“Now, quick, take me from here!” begs Estrella. 

“And run into that party of Indians coming from 
across the prairie,” Hampton points to the further 
smoke signal. “No; we must stay here till Comanche 
and Greaser get to work on each other ; then light out.” 

“You think they will do it?” 

“Just as sure as the Mexicans are lookin’ for your 
purty face and the Comanches is huntin’ for scalps !” 
grins Wild Harry. 

So in the seclusion of the canebrake comes to Miss 
Godfrey the agony of suspense. Shuddering at each 
noise of the wild wood, this delicate girl, who but a 
month before had been the belle of Washington Square 
and University Place dances in far-away New York, 
cowers in the tangled chaparral awaiting the coming 
of barbarous enemies on one side and bloodthirsty sav- 
ages on the other. 

As she crouches there the shadows of the very last 
sun ray falling through the matted leaves and briars of 
the jungle, the thing would seem a horrible phantasy 
to her did she not hear the sharp clicks of gun locks 
as the men who guard her prepare their weapons for 
immediate use. 


144 THE SPY COMPANY. 

Suddenly Hampton whispers : ‘‘Hoofs at a distance. 
Muffle our horses. A single neigh will betray us.’' 

So the two men blanket the heads of the animals, 
who have grown strangely restive, holding the horses’ 
nostrils tightly while they do it. 

She listens again, and Wild Harry mutters below 
his breath: “Hoofs t’other way! Hear ’em corn- 
in’ ? ” 

“Yes, from the north, unshod,” whispers Hampton. 
Then he half laughs : “Both gangs of devils racing 
for a fire whose smoke shows it has been made by 
people innocent of the backwoods and easy prey.” 

By this time the gloom is such Estrella cannot dis- 
tinguish details at a distance, but the frontier senses 
of the men beside her do. “By Goliah, the Injuns’ll 
be here fust!” mutters Wild Harry. 

“Yes, but with Comanche caution they’ve halted,” 
replies the Captain. “Ah, they’ve sent a scout ahead !” 

And Estrella sees in the sunset glow the gleaming 
figure of a naked savage in full war paint, with lance 
at a carry and short bow ready for use, as he lopes 
down the trail, looking cautiously to right and left of 
him. 

Even in the half light something just at the point 
they have left the trail seems unnatural to the observ- 
ing eye of the savage. He checks his horse suddenly, 
and he and his steed become a statue in the red after- 
glow of the prairie sunset. 

“Shall I take him?” whispers Wild Harry, his long 
Kentucky rifle sighted for the Indian’s heart. 

For answer Hampton puts restraining hand upon 
him; then mutters: “Thank God!” For the clank- 
ing of metal horse trappings, the rattle of Mexican 
cavalry accoutrements and the quick hoof sounds of 
the ranchero squadron now catch the Indian’s atten- 
tion. Not over a second he listens; then they can see 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


145 


him glide silently back, like a spectre horseman in the 
gloaming. 

“By gum, the Greasers come just in time to save our 
bacon!” chuckles Love. 

Straining her ears, Estrella catches Spanish voices 
in excitable execration as the rancheros, arriving at 
the camp-fire, discover that their prey has fled from 
them. Though it is dark now, the trail is an easy one, 
and they come dashing on, chattering recklessly in 
their Latin way, yet some muttered carambas indicate 
their cruel intent. 

“By the Eternal,” says Hampton, “the Comanches 
have ambushed them. They’ll get it good !” 

Now the girl shudders and half screams as she sees 
through the gloom of the evening the shining forms 
of the savages on horseback closing in like spectres 
round the rancheros* Then she claps her hands to her 
ears, for greeting them is that horrid yell which has 
proclaimed death, outrage and torture to many a Texas 
maid in her log cabin home, the wild Comanche war 
cry ! She sees the braves in their war paint driving 
their bloody spears into the Mexicans, whom they de- 
spise yet slaughter. Over this ring out the loud re- 
ports of escopetas and pistols, the clash of steel on 
lance, mingled with Spanish carajos, the twang of 
Indian bows, the hissing of Indian arrows and the dull 
thud of horses’ hoofs as they charge upon the prairie. 

Then all dies away in a horrid jumble going rapidly 
towards the south, leaving behind only the moans of 
the dying and the shrieks of scalped and mangled 
wretches. 

“Blowed if the Yaller bellies ain’t flyin’ from the 
Red bellies! Hope they’ve scalped Carrabijol!” guf- 
faws Harry. 

“Quick, let us go!” commands Hampton. 

At his words Miss Godfrey finds herself lifted into 


146 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


her saddle and her horse rushed through the cane- 
brake into the creek ; Harry, following after, doing the 
same with Zelnia. 

To her escort Estrella shudders: “You are going 
south. You are following the Indians.'^ 

“Yes.’^ 

“The Comanches may come back.” 

“The Comanches will come back. Trust the Indians 
when they get through slaughtering Carrabijol’s men 
to return to find out who lighted that prairie fire! 
They’re sure to discover our trail, so I don’t want them 
to know which way we have travelled. If they guess 
we are going north, those crafty demons will intercept 
us at the fords of Blanco Creek.” 

So they dash into the brook, heading to the south, 
and travel down it for some hundred yards ; then their 
horses are turned in midstream and hurried back, keep- 
ing well in the current. They have passed the place 
they entered the stream, and now they dash through 
the waters of the swampy creek for two miles. Miss 
Godfrey shuddering as alligators flop off their logs 
and moccasin snakes hiss from the cypress trees, until 
Hampton, finding a proper place, takes them carefully 
out through the canebrake into the open prairie. 

“Now ride fast!” commands the Ranger Captain. 
“Those red devils are sure to find our trail before morn- 
ing. Ride! We must reach the crossing of Blanco 
Creek before those painted centaurs get there !” 

And they do ride! Miss Godfrey, almost reeling in 
her saddle from fatigue, finds that the horseback exer- 
cise she had taken each day in New York helps her, 
but soon a faint cry from behind indicates her maid 
can ride no more. 

“Reckon we’ve got to tie the wench on her mus- 
tang!” remarks Love, looking at the almost fainting 
octoroon. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


147 


'‘She’s too far gone for that ; it would kill her,” dis- 
sents Sharpe. 

Then he springs into his saddle with Zelma in his 
clutch, who is so worn out she cannot speak; and so, 
carrying one of the despised race right tenderly in his 
strong arms, he rides into her mistress’s heart. 
Though Estrella is nigh fainting herself, she gives her 
cavalier a look that, could he see it in the gloom, would 
make him think that midnight trail through swamps, 
over prairies, amid thorny chaparral, was one of the 
aisles of Paradise. 

But not guessing this and anxious for her safety, he 
whispers to his charge : “You can keep up ! You 
must keep up ! We have got to ford the Blanco be- 
fore I give you rest, brave girl !” 

“Don’t fear. I’ll keep up. Who could flinch with 
you to aid her?” she half moans under the unceasing 
travail of her galloping steed. 

But, despite her words, this beautiful and delicate 
neophyte of the border is so exhausted she scarce has 
her senses as the hoofs of their horses splash through 
a running stream, and Mr. Love says : “Whaugh, 
beat the Injuns this time — the crossing of the Blanco 1” 

What precautions her escorts take at the ford to 
hide their trail Miss Godfrey is too exhausted to dis- 
cover. She only knows that some half hour after- 
wards she sees, as in a dream, their mustangs drawn 
up in some leafy covert, and Hampton passing Zelma 
from his saddle to Mr. Love, who carries the fainting 
girl away. 

Then the frontiersman springs off his horse and 
takes her in his arms as tenderly as he would a wood 
nymph, and bears her as if she were a precious 
thing, to a couch of boughs and leaves, upon which he 
has thrown her blankets. Here, sinking down, she 
gives a sigh of exhaustion, yet content, as she watches 


148 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


this man of iron, with pistols prepared and eyes alert, 
guarding her slumbers, to make them safe from man 
and beast, amid the dangers of the prairies. 

As she goes to sleep she whispers to herself that 
sweet Spanish word she heard Carmelita use : ‘‘Queri- 

dor 


CHAPTER XL 

THE GLORY OF HIS FIGHTING. 

The midday hush of the prairie is around her, its hot 
sun is blazing down upon her when Estrella reopens 
her eyes to a day of strange passion with its astounding- 
joys and curious fears. For a moment she looks 
about her astonished, then physical anguish makes her 
remember. Every joint in her delicate body seems to 
have been racked and made stiff. She who had been 
considered a dashing equestrienne on Harlem Lane, 
New York, discovers that the wild, long night ride of 
the prairies has been altogether too cruel a travail for 
her fair limbs. 

But bodily suffering is effaced by the mental ecstasy : 
“How near I am to my dear father.” Then through 
her mind runs a stronger emotion, a stranger joy: 
“He is by me! He is watching over me!” She does 
not dare to ask herself “Who?” but glances out timidly 
from her leafy bower upon a little prairie surrounded 
by thickets of plum, Osage-orange, oak and pecan, 
where their caballada is grazing contentedly on the 
rich buffalo grass, and over which Mr. Love, rifle in 
hand, is keeping an alert eye. 

All through this day it is apparent that very great 
precautions are used for her safety. Her food is given 
to her cold by Hampton, who apologizes : “I dare not 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


149 


have a fire lighted. These redskins are about us. 
Their accursed eyes see everything on the prairie. We 
must lie close, for if you could travel, your maid could 
not. She has not been inured to horseback exercise.” 
This is too true ; poor Zelma can hardly move at all. 

. Every moment the careful, tireless watch of the 
frontier is being kept about her. Miss Godfrey has 
heard Hampton whisper to Love : ‘Tf we are sur- 
prised these girls are incapable of taking the saddle. 
Therefore, keep the lookout of your life, old man !” 

“Bet yer gizzard!” has answered Wild Harry 
promptly. 

Once she has been cautioned by the Captain of 
Rangers : “Remember, the Comanches are about I” 
for Estrella has wandered timidly away into some cot- 
tonwoods and willows which mask a little stream that 
trickles through the prairie to join the waters of the 
Blanco. 

“I — I just wanted to wash my face,” she mutters. 

“Shucks, ye’d look purty enough if ye didn’t wash 
at all 1” Mr. Love has remarked authoritatively. 

And, fortunately. Miss Godfrey’s beauty is that of 
Nature, or it would all have been torn from her by the 
wild ride of the night before ; even now her fair cheeks 
are covered with dust, and her lovely hair, having es- 
caped from its confinement, is hanging in tangled curls 
about her, well below her waist. 

“It’s — it’s hardly fair. Captain Hampton,” she says, 
bashfully but archly, “to look at me before I’ve made 
a frontier toilet.” 

For he is gazing with tender commiseration at his 
exhausted charge. He brings her some wild flowers 
he has plucked in the glade and places carefully a sad- 
dle for her to sit upon. She is pleased to see, he can’t 
keep his eyes ofif her. This is not to be wondered at, 
as passion has made her bright face exquisitely ten- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


150 

der, and the masses of brown hair unconventionally but 
effectively secured about the graceful head permit the 
sun to shine through their loose bands and tint them 
golden. 

But all the time the girh notices that, though Sharpe 
Hampton apparently wishes to linger in her presence, 
there is a nervous restlessness in this man of energetic 
temperament. It is not fear of Indian pursuit, she is 
sure, for in making arrangements with Love about 
this matter the Ranger’s tone is cool and incisive. 

Perceiving that his eyes at times rest wistfully on 
their horses, she munnurs, a slight reproach in her 
voice: “Ah, you’re anxious to get on your journey.” 

“I am, for military reasons,” he answers. “But I’m 
more anxious to put you safe at your father’s hacienda.” 

“Then I wonT detain you. I can ride; I know I 
can ride. Just let me run about a little and I’ll be as 
active as a fawn !” asserts Miss Godfrey. 

But Hampton, looking at the reclining Zelma, whose 
well-moulded yet languid Creole limbs have not been 
inured to horseback exercise, answers : “I believe you 
could, but your girl can’t.” 

“Zelma shall !” cries Estrella. Striding to the re- 
cumbent octoroon, she speaks in mistress tones : “You 
must travel !” but finds that Nature is stronger than 
her commands, and her slave cannot. 

Then come the long hours of waiting, Hampton and 
Love from points of vantage carefully watching the 
prairie. 

Gazing at them Estrella smuggles Sharpe’s flowers 
into the bosom of her tunic and grows petulant, as she 
gets comparatively little of her cavalier’s attentions, for 
which now she is beginning to long — yet dread ; dread 
— because she fears herself. She is alarmed at 
the strange misery in her heart as she thinks of Car- 
melita’s passion for the frontier Captain, and shudders : 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


I51 

‘‘That dancing girl saved his life, while I only put 
danger on it !” 

Wild Harry happening to be near her, she diffidently 
whispers to him : “Did Carnielita’s warning out on the 
prairie, the one she risked her life to bring, save him 
from the Mexican lancers yesterday?” 

“Save who?” 

“Why — why. Captain Hampton, of course!” 

“Shucks, no,” answers the frontiersman. “We’d 
expected that danger all along and allowed fur it be- 
fore we started out from Corpus Christi. We talked 
of it agin when we see’d the Greaser at the ferry with 
his horse marked with a South Rio Grande brand. Of 
course, we didn’t guess that a war band of Comanches 
was upon the trail ahead of us, but the minute we saw 
their smoke signals we’d fixed our plans just exactly 
how to make the Greasers and redskins wipe each other 
out.” 

“Ah, then Carmelita didn’t save the Captain’s life?” 
she asks, quivering with jealous eagerness. 

“Nary a leetle bit,” answers Wild Harry, confident- 
ly. “Whaugh, Sharpe Hampton ain’t the kind of crit- 
ter as needs any one to save his scalp in an Injun scrim- 
mage. He kin take care of himself. Didn’t he once 
all alone upon the San Saba save two little children 
from a whole tribe of Kiowas? Why, darn it, what’s 
the matter with ye?” For Miss Godfrey has turned 
away, her eyes full of tears, but lighted up with a 
strange, wistful delight. 

Shortly after blushes burn up the tears. The octo- 
roon has looked at Sharpe with grateful eyes ever since 
he carried her through the ride of the previous night. 
Chancing to be in attendance upon Miss Godfrey, and 
noting the Texan’s gentleness in handling the horses 
as he makes some change in their pasturage, Zelma 


152 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


suddenly exclaims : ‘'Oh, if a man like Captain Hamp- 
■ton could be my master !” 

“Captain Hampton! How could he be your mas- 
ter?” asks Estrella, astonished. 

“Why — why, by marrying you, of course. Miss 
’Strella. Sometimes I’ve thought as he looked at you 
his eyes meant ” 

But her mistress stays her with a half scream of 
bashful rage: “Not another word! My Heaven, if 
he hears you !” She almost staggers from Zelma, the 
red blood pouring up through her face till her very 
skin seems to bum. For an hour the words of her 
maid make Miss Godfrey strangely cold to the Cap- 
tain of Rangers whenever he approaches her, lured 
even from his duty of guarding her by the desire to 
look upon her bright face. 

But soon coldness is effaced by a new wild joy. Be- 
fore she had seen her Texan cavalier use the strategy 
of the backwoods and the arts of the frontier to save 
her from savage enemies. Now she has the glory of 
beholding him fight for her ! 

Hampton is seated by Miss Godfrey, telling her how 
he hopes on the morrow to put her in her father’s arms. 
“His hacienda is but forty miles away,” he says. 
As the words leave his lips, Estrella sees his whole 
appearance change. His eyes, that had been soft and 
tender, suddenly light up with the cold gleam with 
which he had cowed the Mississippi gambler, only more 
deadly, more awful. 

To her he says, as he forces her down behind the 
bundles of the pack mule : “Use your pistols !’^ 

Turning, she utters an affrighted cry. In the mid- 
dle of the glade, in full war paint, mounted on his war 
pony like a statue of bronze, the sun lighting up his 
gleaming skin and glittering arms, is a young Co- 
manche brave. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


153 


He is setting an arrow in his bow. But as he draws 
the feathered shaft to its head a rifle cracks sharp as 
a whip from the outlying thicket, and, with a stream 
of blood spouting from his breast, the warrior, utter- 
ing one wild yell that echoes through the timber, falls 
from his horse and dies. 

“Had to shoot this time ! The skunk see’d us. I’ll 
take his pelt cries Love, and springs out into the 
open. But a band of eight braves comes dashing round 
the mesquite bushes and in a second Harry is on the 
ground pinned by a Comanche lance through his arm. 

To run to his aid would be too late for Harry’s life. 
So now the Ranger Captain, standing like a statue, 
gives out death. To the report of his revolving pistol 
the savage raising scalping knife over Love falls dead. 
Then three times in quick succession his deadly marks- 
manship shows itself in three falling warriors who sink 
from their horses. 

Another dies to the crack of Love’s pistol, who, lying 
upon the ground, has fired again. “Whaugh, that 
sickened ’em !” screams Harry, as the other three turn 
and dash madly off, though one leaves an arrow driven 
through Love’s wounded arm. 

“Not one must get back to their band !” cries Hamp- 
ton as he seizes the riata of his steed. Springing upon 
the bare back of the horse, armed only with the pistols 
and bowie-knife in his belt, he dashes off, calling to 
Harry : “See to the Indian mustangs !” 

“Follow him! Follow! He is going after three T 
cries the girl frantically to Love, who with the arrow 
still skewering his arm, is hastily shooting the riderless 
Avar ponies. One of these has run out upon the main 
prairie. Pointing to it. Wild Harry says : “If it gets 
back to the Comanches, it’s track will guide ’em to tis. 
Follow it and kill it, for yer life.” 


154 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“First let me bind up your wounds. You’ll bleed 
to death,” falters Estrella. 

“No, I’ll tend to myself. Git out on that prairie. 
Kill that horse. Ye’ve pistols in your belt- Kill the 
Injun’s horse. That’s our li\es.” 

Wildly excited, she runs out upon the prairie, and 
cieeping within range of the Comanche war pony that 
has stopped to crop some pleasant grasses, for a mo- 
ment cannot kill the beautiful creature. Then murmur- 
ing: “It is his life as well as mine!” and remember- 
ing the markslnanship he had taught her, she raises 
her revolver and slaughters the beast with three nerv- 
ous, trembling shots. 

But her pursuit has taken her well out on the prairie. 
From here, she can see Hampton gaining stride by 
stride on the three Indians, for his horse is fresh, and 
theirs are tired by the war trail. For just a moment 
she gives a shudder of apprehension. Comanches are 
no cowards. Noting but one man following them, 
the three warriors turn. Even at the distance, she can 
hear the twanging of their bows and see the war ar- 
rows flashing through the sunlight. 

She runs frantically towards them, her pistol may aid 
Sharpe I Probably the embarrassment of her presence 
would give him death, but fortunately the distance is 
too great for her to reach them. Even now she sees 
Hampton spring off his horse, standing behind it and 
making a pivot of it as the Indians circle round him. 
Resting his long dragoon pistol over the animal’s shoul- 
der, he takes three long shots. 

The heavy revolver does its work. One Indian falls 
dead ; another desperately wounded is half-dragged by 
his pony into a mesquite thicket ; then the other flies. 
She sees him speed off over the prairie followed by 
Sharpe, till pursued and pursuer pass out of sight 
around one of the timber mottes of the prairie. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


155 


And she stands gazing — gazing so eagerly, she 
never notices the slight waving ripple that gradually 
draws nearer through the long prairie grass which 
rises almost to her waist. 

After a few minutes that seem an age, one man 
comes riding back. Recognizing him, Estrella gives a 
sigh of joy, the tears coursing down her cheeks as she 
is thanking God. 

But not approaching her he gallops hurriedly into the 
chaparral, where the wounded Indian’s mustang had 
dragged the warrior. A moment later lie dashes out 
of the thicket, and urging his horse to its full speed, 
flies straight towards her across the prairie, calling: 
“Use your pistol ! Quick, your pistol !” 

“On what ?” 

Suddenly the girl sees on what. Rising before her, 
wounded but deadly, is a Comanche brave. Blood is 
dripping from his naked, painted body. All he wants 
is her young life before he dies. Half crawling, half 
staggering, he drags himself towards her, his eyes 
malevolent, his knife upraised. 

With trembling fingers the girl shoots, and misses; 
then shoots again, but doesn’t stay him. What is an- 
other flesh wound to a Comanche with a scalp in his 
very hand ? 

She is fumbling in her belt for her other pistol, and 
trying to pray. The brute’s hot, foetid breath is on her 
face, his knife uplifted, when to the hoarse bark of the 
Ranger’s big revolver, the savage falls groveling at her 
feet, the blood spouting from his head. 

Hampton has shot from the back of his mustang at 
full speed, the impetus of his horse takes him past her. 
As he passes, Estrella finds herself plucked from the 
prairie and gathered in his arms in front of him. Then 
they go dashing on. 

“To save you, I had to let the war pony of that dead 


156 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Indian get away. A riderless horse will tell the Co- 
manches that their party has been slaughtered. Venge- 
ance will give them speed. We’ve got to light out. 
Hang on to me while I take you into camp.” These are 
quick words as they fly across the prairie. 

So nestling to him, she rides in his arms, blushes 
on her cheeks and whispered thanks on her lips for 
the life he has given her. Through her light fawn- 
skin tunic he can feel the quick throbbing of her round- 
ed bosom. It sets his heart to beating also. 

Her face confronts his. Her eyes gleam into his, 
then droop bashfully, and her head with all its wealth 
of soft brown hair that blows out in the light prairie 
wind, falls on his shoulder. The Ranger’s hand, which 
had been very steady as he pulled trigger on Indian 
braves, quivers as he holds to him the dainty body of 
this graceful creature, who enchants him and makes 
him tremble with a tender passion. 

A short, blissful ride. Neither speaks, but the girl’s 
head hangs lower and lower on his shoulder, and his 
clasp is more possessive about the slight waist and ex- 
quisite limbs that nestle closer and closer to him. Still 
their lips are silent, for between their beating hearts 
are the words of the young dragoon : “Keep my loved 
one safe, Hampton, for it is my life.” 

So he gallops into camp, but doesn’t pass Estrella to 
Harry as he had done the octoroon girl the night be- 
fore; for he slides off his horse’s back, still bearing 
a loved burden in his arms as if he could not give it up. 
Though even as he dismounts, he is speaking rapidly : 
“Quick, Harry, how is your wounded arm ?” 

“All right. Zelma did a good job binding it up. 
Only a flesh wound.” 

“Then get up the horses! One of the Comanche 
ponies escaped me. We must light out.” And the 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


157 


Captain goes to packing the mule, for Love says : “I 
kin bridle the plugs, anyway.” 

“Now, Miss Godfrey !” whispers Hampton. This 
time he doesn’t refuse the little foot that is extended 
to him, but swings her into her saddle. 

“Quick, Zelma !” 

But the octoroon, with the languor of her race, half 
sobs : “I cannot go. I’m too tired. My limbs ache 

SO. 

Then Miss Godfrey discovers a new feature in the 
Texas Captain. He says : “Girl, you have got to ride. 
Now Love’s wounded, my arms must be free. Up at 
once! Your legs will get easier with exercise.” 

But Zelma hesitating, with a single gesture he swings 
her into the saddle, commanding: “Ride! Ride, or, 
by Heaven, I’ll leave you to be scalped. Ride! You’ve 
got to ride !” 

Then the cavalcade dash off. 

Turning in his saddle, he says to Love : “Harry, if 
Zelma falls off her horse, we must tie her on, that’s 
all.” 

Then he gallops by Miss Godfrey’s side, asking her 
anxiously: “You feel strong enough?” 

“Strong enough ? Oh,” she whispers buoyantly, “I 
could ride in your” — her face grows red as the prairie 
roses — “by your side all night.” Yet every stride of 
her mustang bringing her nearer her father, makes her 
heart grow heavier ; she is approaching the place where 
they must part for the present, for now she has linked 
this man, who has saved her from savage enemies, with 
her future. 

Perchance as they ride along, Hampton talks himself 
further into her good will. He seems to have lost all 
of that quaint Southern dignity that had made him 
formal during their first intercourse. Anxious to make 
her forget the dangers of pursuit and the fatigues of 


58 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


enforced horsemanship, he tells her stories of the bor- 
der, of Davy Crockett, Bowie and Milam of the War 
of Independence, of Gillespie, Sam Walker, and Jack 
Hays of Indian fame, of the great fight on the head 
waters of the Guadaloupe, sometimes called that of the 
Pinto Trace, wherein fourteen Texan Rangers under 
the command of Hays, had driven eighty Indians for 
six miles, slaying nearly half of them, with a loss of 
three men killed and four wounded. 

Likewise he describes the ill-fated Mier Expedi- 
tion, where he in company with two hundred and 
seventy Texans, after killing seven hundred Mex- 
icans, surrendered from lack of ammunition; how re- 
captured after their attempt to escape, they had been 
decimated by order of Santa Anna; a gourd having 
been placed before them filled with beans, each one 
representing a man’s life, nine white to one black, 
which meant death; how he had drawn, by the mercy 
of God, a white bean; how old Blackburn, to whom 
fate had given one of the black beans, had jeeringly 
called out : “Boys, I always draw a prize in every lot- 
tery,” and had gone laughingly to stand up against the 
adobe wall and die. 

To this last the girl listens, her eyes lighted up wild 
and horrified, as she thinks, trembling at her own emo- 
tion : “If he had drawn a black bean.” 

Noting her nervousness, Sharpe whispers reassuring- 
ly : “But a few miles more to your father’s hacienda.” 

“And you?” 

“Then — then I go on to San Antonio. No — no, I 
cannot stay.” For she has said some pressing words 
of hospitality. “Duty calls me. I must ride through 
the night,” he answers. “But should you want me at 
any time in stress like the present, if I am not dead or 
across the border fighting for my country, send for me, 



A KNIGHT OF THE PRAIRIE 




I 


I , 

f 


\ 

V r 

t 




\ 

4 




« 


► 


% 


r 

i 



F 



A ' 



\ 


V ». '* 1 

♦-• V 

•*. 


# 

# *. S 

*l» 

c 




k' 


> 


> i 




• « 


( 



I 

I 


I 


*'• 


t *■ 


a 



•I 


t 


$ 


I 

/ 


• • • 




fl 





/ 


« 


N 









I • 

% 



THE SPY COMPANY. 


159 


and if horseflesh will get me there ” His face tells 

her the rest. 

Yet during this ride, at times a weird and uncanny 
horror seems to smite Hampton’s very soul. Estrella 
has noticed this ever since he encountered the Coman- 
ches. “You — you’re not sad about the Indians you 
killed. It was to save my life,” she whispers ; then is 
horrified at the jeering yet awful laugh which is his 
answer. 

“Sorry at killing those red devils?” he breaks out. 
“Sorry?” He bows his head upon the saddle, and 
tears run down between his brown hands. “Oh, you 
don’t know my life, or you’d not ask me that,” he mut- 
ters. “You have perhaps wondered why I haven’t all 
the rough diction of the prairie, that I sometimes speak 
as people living in the cities. I was educated at college 
for two years, and then went back from my sophomore 
year to our plantation in Shelby County, Texas, 
where I had a loving father, a dear mother and a sweet 
sister. When I arrived there a bleakened prairie 
greeted me where there had been gardens and a cot- 
tage with woodbines and Virginia creepers climbing 
over it, a desert where there had been a happy home, 
and that was all — all ! No living thing, but the hoof 
tracks of the war ponies told the massacre of my fam- 
ily. Since then I have been alone. That’s the reason. 
Miss Godfrey, why my name has been connected with 
so many bloody deeds done on this frontier. To pro- 
tect other men’s homes from these red devils, I entered 
the Texan Rangers. I never have taken life but to save 
life. I am not a duellist like a good many of our boys 
are — if I can help it. Though no man, I think, can 
say Sharpe Hampton ever turned his back on him. 
Anyway, that’s my history. You don’t think my hand 
has wanton blood upon it ?” 

“What ! When it has protected me this day ?” And 


i6o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


tlie girl, leaning over her saddle, extends her own hand 
to the Texan Ranger. It is gripped so that she screams 
from very agony. 

“Oh, forgive me !“ he pleads. 

“Why, you can grip it again,” says Estrella, bravely, 
and extends her delicate fingers once more ; then gives 
a little, agitated cry as the tenderest kiss is placed upon 
it. Fortunately the night is dark. 

They are riding through the prairies that are open- 
ing. The waters of the Atascosa Creek, heavily tim- 
bered, are on their left. A light gleams on the prairie. 
“It is one of the outlying cabins of your father’s set- 
tlements,” he says, almost sadly. 

“Have we ridden thirty-five miles?” she asks, aston- 
ished. 

“Not yet. Your father’s acres are pretty numerous. 
But we’ve come very quickly — yet not too fast.” His 
face is serious ; he cries suddenly : “Quicken your 
pace. Urge your horse.” 

“Why, we’re nearly there.” 

“Listen to the Comanche hoof-beats behind us ! 
Quick, Harry, whip up Zelma’s mustang!” As her 
steed springs under her, Estrella can hear the sharp 
sounds of the quirta as it is plied behind her on the 
tired horse. 

But now more lights open before them. They have 
dashed past several log cabins, and Love, spurring up 
from the rear, cries : “Those skunks have quit at the 
lights of the settlement.” 

“Yes, but drive on 1” cries Hampton. “You never 
know when a Comanche’s beaten.” 

So they rush on again, and are just in time. To 
the right are pattering hoofs trying to head them off. 
But now, riding past Virginia rail fences, there is a 
block-house, at which they are challenged, and the 
Ranger cries : “Comanches behind us, boys !’* 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


l6l 

A scattering volley, and the ponies’ hoof-sounds pass 
away into the darkness of the prairie from which they 
came. Indians do not often face palisades with rifle- 
fire behind them. 

A moment later there is quite a crowd about Estrella 
and her party, rough men, some with German accent, 
and two or three negroes. But on hearing who it is, 
the garrison of the block-house set up a yell and drive 
Miss Godfrey nearly frantic with joy, for they tell her 
her father is at the hacienda, having arrived there the 
day before. 

“You must stay and let him thank you,” Estrella 
whispers. “Only to-night ; to-morrow you can go on.” 

“No, Love goes on now. Though tough as whip- 
cord, you’ve seen his pluck, he is a wounded man and 
I must follow him and see he gets in to San Antonio 
de Bexar safe. When the regiment rides down — they’ll 
be coming soon, en route for the Rio Grande, I’ll try 
to run over and — and see you.” 

They still are at the block-house, arranging that 
Zelma be sent on by wagon. Miss Godfrey’s maid being 
utterly exhausted. 

Love, who has been looking on uneasily, now says 
in wild, nervous tone : “No further. Cap. You know 
I can’t stand the looks of this ’ere place. Over thar, 
beyond that cross timber, my poor old Mammy lived. 
Let me get on to San Antonio, as we agreed, and — 
good luck to ye. Miss Godfrey, and — ” 

“And,” says the girl, “whenever you need a friend 
or want a resting-place, remember Estrella Godfrey. 
Come back. This place was the home of your boyhood. 
It will be your home as long as I have any influence 
with my father, and I think I’ll have a good deal,” she 
adds in radiant confidence; then breaks out, her soul 
in her eyes : “My father ! Hampton, think, my father ! 
Let us get along; my father’s waiting for me. My 


i 62 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


father, whose face I will not know, whose kisses I never 
remember.’^ 

Then the two ride on together, alone. ‘Think — 
think,” says the girl, in excited gratitude, as their horses 
pace side by side, “if I had not met you.” 

“It would have been to me as if the sun had never 
risen,” mutters Hampton, half to himself. 

“You said if I wanted you, to send for you,” remarks 
Estrella, pensively; then suddenly asks, half archly, 
half indignantly : “You wouldn’t come unless I sent 
for you?” 

The Texan Captain half turns to her in his saddle; 
but answers resolutely : “No, never until I’m wanted !” 
for the words of young Pelham, the dragoon, are yet in 
Hampton’s mind and 'still his tongue. 

Then wounded pride keeps the young lady silent as, 
coming through fruit lands and passing big cotton fields 
and huge cattle corrals, and being challenged by two or 
three sentinels, who are all alert, for the place has al- 
most the appearance of a frontier fortification, they 
ride up to the strong adobe walls* and heavy timber 
doors of the hacienda of Live Oaks, and after some 
parley are admitted. 

In the big courtyard, half patio, half garden, a man 
dressed partly in the costume of the prairies, partly in 
that of the city, comes hurriedly to meet them. To 
him, Hampton cries : “Jim Godfrey, I’ve brought your 
daughter !” 

And Estrella screams : “Father !” 

At this the man, muttering : “Daughter !” and hold- 
ing out his arms, the girl falls into them, and greets 
him with tender kisses, sobbing : “Thank God, at last 
my dear father!” Then, for he has only saluted her 
forehead, she says archly yet lovingly : “My lips, pa- 
pa, my lips I” and holds up for his caress two rosebuds 
made sweet by a daughter’s happy affection. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 1 63 

From this sacred meeting, the Ranger steps a few 
paces away. Some minutes afterwards, despite the 
hospitable protests of the head of this great estate and 
his thanks for bearing his child to him, he says, short- 
ly : “Military duty won’t let me stay. Taylor has 
marched for the Rio Grande, and Hays’s Regiment 
must go after him !” 

To this Godfrey cries: “Hurrah, there’ll be big 
Government contracts and lots of profit !” 

Wondering how the father can think of pelf with 
his exquisite daughter just given to his arms and her 
first kisses warm upon his lips, Sharpe turns away. 
Undeterred by even the young lady’s detaining grasp 
and faltered thanks and entreating eyes, he wrings her 
hand and mutters : “Farewell !” But in the very arch- 
way of the hacienda he looks back. The lights from 
the adobe building illumine the woman of his love, nes- 
tling in her father’s arms and prattling how she has 
come from the world to make his frontier fireside less 
lonely. 

It is the vision of a home he will ne\^er have. With 
a sigh the Ranger Captain turns his horse through the 
heavy gates and spurs away into the darkening night on 
the lone trail over the prairie to San Antonio de Bexar. 


BOOK IV. 

Miss Godfrey’s Father. 


CHAPTER XII. 

“my dear daddy !” 

That evening Miss Godfrey goes in very happily on 
her father’s arm to supper. This has been hastily 
spread late at night. To him she says, her eyes light- 
ing up as they sit down : “For the first time at the 
head of your table ; my dear daddy.'’ 

It is a profuse meal, though served in homely fron- 
tier style by a bright-faced mulatto girl called Milly. 
Over it she tells her father of her journey from New 
York and her adventures after leaving Copus Christi. 

Perhaps her account of the Ranger Captain’s care 
and guardianship of her is slightly too fervid. During 
this her father looks at her once or twice with so per- 
turbed a countenance that she says hastily : “You don’t 
think I did wrong in coming across the prairies alone 
with a frontiersman. You know it was to see you. I 
had got so far, I felt that I couldn’t wait any longer 
for your kisses.” Then she questions, a diffident con- 
fusion on her features : “You don’t think I’m too 
grateful to Captain Hampton ?” 

. “Oh, that’s all right. Your journey’s over; that’s 
the end of it,” remarks Godfrey. “You’re — you’re too 
tired, my — ^my child.” There is a slight hesitancy in 
his expression. “Best go up-stairs. Zelma, your girl, 
(164) 


THE SPY COMPANY. 1 65 

has arrived by wagon. What you want is to sleep 
for a day or two,” he suggests. 

“Oh, I’ll wake up to-morrow, for my first day with 
my father !” Putting her arms about him, the girl 
kisses him tenderly, and runs up-stairs, where she finds 
that a plain chamber in this backwoods house has 
been made as pretty as possible for her use. It is 
handsomely furnished for the frontier, has flowers in 
jugs upon its tables. She has also noticed in the sitting- 
room a piano, that has been purchased for her in New 
Orleans and sent up by wagon from Matagorda. 

From her window she looks out upon the prairie to 
the west and sighs to the night wind : “Hampton !” 
Then goes to bed, and, though worn out, sleeps a sleep 
that is not always dreamless, for in it are Indians and 
war whoops and rifle-shots, and she rides again in the 
Ranger’s arms on his bareback steed ; that blissful ride 
when he had plucked her from th^ death that seemed to 
claim her. 

The next morning Estrella awakens to find the 
bright sun lighting up her pretty chamber, and to sniff 
the perfume of flowers that Milly is placing about it. 

The wench, with a little salute, says : “Missie, Massa 
said as how he wouldn’t expect yo’ to breakast dis 
mornin’ ; he ’lowed yo’ might be too used up.” 

“Not too tired to meet my father !” cries Estrella, and 
springs out of bed. Smelling the beautiful flowers with 
which her room is decorated, she murmurs to herself: 
“Daddy! He thought of me this morning. He has 
plucked these himself.” 

In the adjoining room her maid is working un the 
little wardrobe brought across the prairie. “Zelma, 
is my muslin frock ironed?” she asks. “It must have 
been mussed fearfully on the mule.” Miss Godfrey, 
always feminine, though she has brought with her only 


i66 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


one gown, has selected one that she feels sure will make 
her look well in her father’s eyes. 

She glances at her watch and cries : “Mercy, nearly 
twelve o’clock. Papa will be waiting for me !” To her 
maid she says : “You seem tired, Zelma. Just make 
me pretty for my father ; then take a rest,” and laughs : 
“No more an Indian maiden! Dad shall see how his 
daughter looked civilized.” 

Miss Godfrey, her eyes full of love, trips down-stairs 
and pouts to find that her father has ridden out five 
hours before to look at his cotton fields. 

A bright idea flits through her mind, and calling 
Milly, she goes to work at domestic matters. From 
these she springs, her face radiant, as, about an hour 
after, Godfrey comes riding up to the house and throws 
his reins to a negro boy. Running out to him, she 
cries: “Come in to lunch, papa dear, and see what a 
housekeeper your daughter is.’" 

Putting a kiss on his lips, she leads him into the din- 
ing-room, which had been quite homely in style and 
furnishing, but has now been made under her hands 
bright with flowers, and its table adorned with snowy 
linen. “What do you think of a civilized meal?” she 
says, proudly. 

“Ah, you expect company?” asks Godfrey, a curious 
nervousness in his tone, his eyes opening at unwonted 
luxury, for till this time he had lived in almost backs- 
woods manner, his bearing being that of a man un- 
accustomed to the world, his face one that has borne 
the brunt of outdoor life. His clothes and manner also 
indicate he is a plain frontier planter. 

This only makes his daughter more tender to him. 
She cries: “No, only you! Nothing is too good for 
you. Look. Prairie roses on the table, and I’ve had 
everything cooked that Milly said you liked.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 167 

So they sit down, she radiant and he quite well con- 
tent. 

But the meal being over, and Milly having gone 
away, she says, archly standing before him : “Take a 
good look at me, dad. What do you think of me 
civilized, papa ? See ; silk stockings and slippers She 
displays, in daughter’s freedom, dazzling ankles ex- 
quisite in their moulding and dainty feet decked in 
Parisian style; then suddenly gasps: “You — you’re 
not ashamed of me?” For a red flush has flown over 
her father’s face and there is a somewhat abashed look 
in his deep eyes as he gazes on his daughter’s loveli- 
ness. 

“No,” he stammers, “but I — I was afraid, with your 
fine dresses and high-falutin’ things, you might be 
ashamed of your frontier daddy.” Apparently almost 
forcing himself, he glances at the beautiful figure the 
girl makes before him, favoring with a little paternal 
pat her superb shoulders, that gleam white as marble 
under the sheer muslin of her corsage, as he continues : 
“I was afraid you might put on shines with me and be 
hard to control, and ” 

“Oh, no, father,” she says simply, her eyes lighting 
up with devoted love. “Understand me, I intend to 
give a daughter’s full and entire duty to you.” 

At this declaration Godfrey’s face becomes easier; 
he takes Estrella’s little, shell-like ear between his big 
thumb and strong forefinger, gives it a slight pinch and 
laughs : “Then be very careful, miss.” 

Flushing, yet pleased at the familiarity, for until this 
time her father had been somewhat more formal with 
her, she whispers : “That’s the way I want you to 
treat me; just as if I had been brought up here on the 
plantation and had always been under your charge 
and accustomed to obey you. That’s it, dad, acais- 


i68 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


tomed to obey you — accustomed ahvays to obey you. 
For you will give me your guidance and direction.” 

“And correction, eh, my little girl?” he observes, his 
tone having grown quite confident and dominating. 

Gazing into his eyes, she sees that her father will 
exercise the authority she has so freely yet gracefully 
conceded, and in the exuberant love that she has kept 
waiting for him all these years, she is happy in the 
familiarity of his control and dominion. 

“Yes, when I need it, I suppose,” she murmurs, and 
hangs her head bashfully and nestles to him a little. 
“But I am going to be a very good girl,” she cries in 
sweet enthusiasm. “Indeed, I am, papa dear,” and 
seals her promise with a whole-souled daughter’s kiss. 

“Well, since my little girl’s going to obey dad in all 
things,” remarks Godfrey, his voice quite confident, 
“I’ve got to go and look at some mules I’m shipping to 
Matagorda for Uncle Sammy.” 

“Oh, can’t I go with you?” 

“Why, certainly. I had feared that you were too 
tired.” 

“Not too tired to ride with you,” she cries, eagerly ; 
but a moment after pouts : “I have no horse.” 

“Why, there’s that mare you rode across the prai- 
ries.” 

“What, Mulefoot?” 

“Yes, Captain Hampton left her as a present for 
you,” says her father. 

“Oh, he always thinks of me !” Miss Godfrey flushes 
with pleasure. There is a tender look in her eyes that 
causes a cloud to cover her father’s face. But this she 
doesn’t notice, having already run from him to get 
ready for the excursion. 

The moment their horses are at the door, she comes 
down looking like an Indian princess, her face flushed 
at Hampton’s gift, and pats the glossy neck of the 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


169 


mare. Turning to her father, she laughs : 'T’m bar- 
barous again. No riding habit, so Tm an Indian maid- 
en.” 

“Oh, my superintendent’ll have your clothes and fix- 
in’s up from Matagorda very soon,” remarks Godfrey 
heartily, and puts his beautiful daughter in the saddle. 

Then the two ride off together through Osage- 
orange hedges and paths bordered with wild flowers, 
for a look at the great plantation. As they lope over 
the cotton fields, her father explains to her the great 
extent and possibilities of the estate. They go into the 
cattle corrals to inspect the mules ready to be sent down 
to Matagorda for Uncle Sam. 

“You see, there’s going to be a big war, Strella,” he 
says cheerfully. “And this is my first chance to make 
big money.” 

“Oh, then you’ll have to leave me here and go on 
to Matagorda soon?” Her eyes grow misty at the 
thought of his parting from her. 

“Not a bit. My superintendent, who is down there, 
is a man of the finest business ability, a great friend of 
mine, also” remarks Godfrey, adding, rather earnestly : 
“When he comes up here, I want you to like him, 
Strella.” 

“Oh, of course I will ; any friend of my father’s !” 
cries the girl enthusiastically, and they enjoy a very 
pleasant afternoon, though once a shock comes to Miss 
Godfrey. 

Standing in one of the cotton fields, waiting for her 
father, who is giving some directions to an under over-, 
seer, the conversation of a near-by negro gang that 
gaze with darkey curiosity on their young mistress, 
who has given the toiling creatures some kindly words, 
comes to her ears. 

“ ’Pears like de hand of Gaud ha’ bin put upon us 


170 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


and an angel had come down on dis 'ere plantation," 
orates a big Congo man. 

“Can’t be no angel in hell, honey," answers a woman 
sadly. Then the driver cracks his whip and she places 
her picaninny under a bush and goes with the rest of 
the gang to wielding a hoe through the long rows of 
the unending cotton fields. 

Knowing the exaggerated expressions of the negro 
race. Miss Godfrey doesn’t give any great heed to this, 
regarding it simply as “nigger talk." But still the 
whole plantation has an animalism in its great gangs 
of slaves working in the cotton fields under their driv- 
ers that isn’t entirely obliterated by its somewhat ro- 
mantic surroundings, the outlying log cabins of Ger- 
man settlers, who cultivate their own little farms among 
its islands of sycamores and oaks, being diversified by 
several blockhouses, each garrisoned by a few fron- 
tiersmen and hunters. 

As they ride back, her father says: “Were it not 
that this place is a big one and able to protect itself, we 
would have been wiped oi¥ the face of the earth in these 
last few years by the raids of Mexican Rancheros or 
forays of the Comanche. As it is, we have to keep a 
pretty sharp eye for our scalps. But this war will 
finish up the Ranchero raiders and then this country 
will settle up and be frontier no more." 

“It shall be frontier no more to you, dear papa, from 
now on,’’ remarks Estrella gaily, as she springs off her 
horse, full of the idea of introducing some of the ele- 
gancies of the world into her father’s big adobe, back- 
woods household. 

Consequently, Godfrey who has departed on some 
plantation business, chancing to return a little later and 
step into his bedroom, starts astounded and questions 
nervously : “What are you doing here, daughter?" 

“Mending dad’s trousers,’’ replies Estrella. This is 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


I7I 

quite evident; the fair priestess of domesticity, with 
the sleeves of her dress rolled up to her dimpled el- 
bows, is seated, in daughter’s familiarity, at work with 
needle and thread on his frontier wardrobe, which in 
truth has much need of attention. 

'‘By gum,” he mutters, “that’s real kind. Even 
fear of a hiding won’t make Milly keep the buttons 
on !” and he looks grateful but shame-faced as Estrella 
cries : “Papa dear, you are to buy a new suit of clothes 
the next time you go to Matagorda. Your daughter 
wants you to look scrumptious!” 

At his supper also, he finds some confections the 
young lady had learned to manufacture from Mr. 
Martin’s chef in New York. These appeal to her 
father’s palate so greatly that he says : “Daughter, 
them kick-a-shaws are better than any I have ever 
eaten in the Tremont House, Galveston.” For this is 
the nearest to the great world Estrella discovers God- 
frey has been in the last twenty years. 

Reflecting that during all this time, he had been ac- 
customed to nothing but this rough and tumble frontier 
plantation, devoid of all elegancies of life, until she 
entered his doorway, the girl sighs to herself : “And 
dad endured all this to give me a fortune !” 

Whereupon she introduces a little more civilization 
into papa’s life by sitting down at her piano and sing- 
ing, as he smokes his cigar, some of the tunes that have 
lately pleased New York. 

As she finishes Godfrey says : “You’ve made a new 
world for me, my daughter. God bless you, I don’t 
v/ant you to ever go away from here again.” 

“No, father, I won’t.” 

“That’s right. You marry some Texas fellow who 
won’t take you from me, and we’ll settle down here.” 

“Yes, father.” Her cheeks are blushing. “Some 


172 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


I'exas fellow who won't take her away from here!” 
She knows one I 

“Ah, I'm glad you see the thing in my light,” ob- 
serves her father, pleasantly, as she seats herself by his 
side and takes his big hand in her little one. 

“Papa,” says the girl suddenly, “Captain Hampton 
must have spent a good deal of money for me. There 
is that horse that Zelma rode, and other expenses.” 

“Oh, as to the money. I’ll take care of that,” replies 
Godfrey rather testily. His voice has a slight command 
in it as he continues : “Don’t you trouble Hampton. 
As to the mustang your gal rode, it has already been 
sent on to San Antonio. By the bye,” he adds, “I’ve 
had your wench down at my office and registered her in 
our live stock. Crackey, I never guessed you had such 
a valuable piece of property in New York. That girl, 
with her white skin and fine lady airs, ’ll bring twenty- 
five hundred dollars in the New Orleans market if she’ll 
bring a cent.” 

“Oh, you’d never think of selling her !’’ cries Estrella. 
“Mother had Zelma since she was almost a child. Don’t 
you remember, you wrote once that if she was faithful 
to me, Zelma should have her freedom ?” 

“What ! Manumit that likely piece of goods ? That 
ain’t Jim Godfrey’s way,” cries her father, angrily. 
Then he stammers : “I — I wrote about her ?” and looks 
astounded. 

“Yes! But that was before you were wounded at 
Rock Springs,” replies the girl ; “wounded so you 
couldn’t write to us for nearly a year.” Though noting 
the hand she holds in hers bears the signs of injury, she 
is somewhat astonished to see that it is his left one, not 
his right. 

“Oh — ah, yes,” answers Godfrey, hastily; “but at 
that time I had so much upon my mind, the wench 
probably went out of it. I had to build up this planta- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


173 


tion and resettle it. When I came back here, there 
wasn’t a living thing on all this place but a dog ; every 
nigger run off, every white slaughtered.” 

“Except Harry Love,” cries Estrella. 

“What? Who’s he?” These are two hasty and 
anxious questions. 

“Why, the Ranger I told you of, who, with Captain 
Hampton, escorted me across the prairie ; Harry Love, 
who was a boy here, before the massacre !” 

‘'Before the massacre!” shudders Godfrey, the hor- 
ror of that awful time seeming to come into his face. 

“Yes. His father and mother lived over there in the 
* cross timbers and were killed with the rest, but he 
escaped.” 

Here Estrella is startled. As she has spoken, her 
father’s features have grown almost ashen. He has 
staggered to the sideboard and taken a long pull of 
whiskey, muttering: “Harry Love, the boy; Wild 
Harry escaped ! Yes — I — I remember him.” 

“And he remembers you, too. He said you were 

the kindest-hearted man in all of Texas; he but I 

couldn’t get him to stop here last night. His father 
and mother had been killed just out there, and he 
couldn’t bear to look upon the place. That’s the rea- 
son he has never come near Live Oaks in these ten 
years.” Then she half screams : “Father, the recol- 
lections are too horrible for you !” 

For he is looking at her wild-eyed, and is shudder- 
ing : “Don’t bring these recollections up to me, child. 
Pity your poor old father, and don’t let this Harry 
Love come here; the meeting would be as cruel for 
him as for me. Every old face brings up your mother 
and your stolen sister,” and, sinking into a chair, he 
puts his head in his hands. 

Stepping to him, Estrella tries to pull his hands away 
to kiss his face, but cannot. Apparently he doesn't wish 


174 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


her to see how the memories of the harrowing past have 
unnerved him ; so she presses her lips to his forehead 
reverently murmuring : ‘‘Poor papa/’ and goes silent- 
ly away. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

THE COMING OF THE SUPERINTENDENT. 

The next morning all is bright again, and that 
afternoon, coming in from his office, which is down 
on the road a couple of hundred yards away, Godfrey 
finds Estrella in daughter’s freedom in his chamber, 
making his room more homelike. Gazing at his bed, 
he gasps : “Sheets !” 

“Certainly, sheets !” laughs the young lady. “There 
was plenty of cotton cloth in the house, and Zelma and 
I can sew. Besides, I wanted sheets for myself,” she 
adds, archly. 

“Wall, I ain’t seen sheets since I was at the Tremont 
House, Galveston,” says her father. “You make me 
luxurious as a king, daughter,” and he pats her on the 
head and makes her happy by calling her his good little 
girl. 

So now come to her days happy in her father’s com- 
panionship, when as princess of the plantation she rides 
by Jim Godfrey’s side over the great estate and strives 
to make his homely life less crude by a daughter’s love 
and devotion. 

In addition, finding her father speaks Spanish, she 
takes to learning that tongue, and, as quite a number 
of the people about the plantation jabber that language, 
Estrella soon becomes fluent in it after the Mexican 
way, which is rather different to the true Castilian. 

During this time the excitement of first meeting hav- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


75 


iiig passed, the daughter begins to contemplate the 
father, and finds him a man of strange weakness, yet 
strange strength. In appearance he is somewhat 
)'Ounger than she had expected, very active and strong 
in person, and very hard in his dealings with others — 
though not to her. To every one else on the planta- 
tion he is autocratic, but to her he is always kindly in 
word and bearing, though sometimes strangely diffi- 
dent and bashful for a father. In fact, his weakness 
seems only to be for her and his absent superintendent. 
Upon this man, from his remarks, Godfrey appears to 
lean, especially in a business way. When displeased 
by the backwardness of work on the plantation he so 
often says : ‘Tf Jasper was here things would be dif- 
ferent;” that the daughter grows rather jealous of the 
absent Mr. Jasper. 

As the days run on everything and everybody seems 
to be turned to account. Milly, the dining-room girl, 
is put to “chopping through cotton” in the field, and 
Zelma, who has but little to do as her mistress’s ward- 
robe has not yet arrived from Matagorda, is placed in 
the dining-room. 

Pondering on this, as Estrella does at times when 
she is not by her father’s side or riding with him on 
the plantation, which is her great pleasure. Miss God- 
frey cannot understand how a man who has been so lib- 
eral to her in far-away New York, grinds every ounce 
of muscle in the slave gangs of the cotton fields into 
money. 

“Anyway,” she thinks, “this is not altogether dad’s 
doings. It is the arrangement of his superintendent, 
who is down at Matagorda, the man upon whom he 
seems to be so dependent and to lean so much,” for she 
has heard : “Da young boss — and de^* hard drivin’ Mas- 
sa Jasper!” in the negro quarters. These she visits 
often, trying to make the existence of tlie toiling slaves 


176 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


more bearable by kindly sympathy, at times demanding 
and getting from her father better food-rations for 
them, and once begging for them a half holiday, as it is 
her birthday. 

This, strangely enough, her father seems to have for- 
gotten, though when she mentions it to Godfrey, he 
cries effusively : “Oh, yes, by Jingo ; the fifteenth of 
April ! How could that have slipped my mind !” and 
gives the recreation to everyone on the plantation, and 
quite humbly brings her this day a handsome jewelled 
locket of Mexican workmanship, saying : “It was your 
mother's, and was concealed in the strong box with my 
money, which fortunately escaped the fiends when the 
plantation was destroyed.” 

“Ah, thank you, dear dad !” cries the girl, and kisses 
it. 

Then as Godfrey notices that her fingers, urged by 
woman’s curiosity move over its golden surface trying 
to open it, he laughs : “There ain’t any inside to the 
thing. I’ve tried it a hundred times myself. The bau- 
ble’s as solid as a nugget.” 

“Ah, but there is a spring in its handle,” exclaims 
the young lady, who is more used to jewelry than her 
parent. “See ! The mechanism is very stiff from dis- 
use, but ” she gives a little excited cry and her agile 

fingers force it open. Then she eagerly asks : “Whose 
miniature is this ?” She is looking at the face of some 
one painted on ivory, who seems a very dim memory 
to her. 

Her father, who has sprung to her apparently to aid 
her, gives a start, gazes at the locket, then chokes a 
little and mutters : “Your — your mother’s brother, I 
reckon. Didn’t she ever speak of him?” A moment 
after he suggests : “Best take it out and some day I’ll 
have a picture made for you of your daddy,” and goes 
away to superintend a festival for her natal day, having 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


177 


flowers and fruit brought in and sending out hunters to 
shoot wild turkeys and other game. 

Yet two or three times during the festivities, as her 
father glances at the locket she has hung about her 
white neck, Estrella imagines he half regrets the gift, 
though he is more loving to her than ever and kisses her 
forehead, which he has crowned with wild flowers, and 
calls her his beautiful daughter. 

In the next few days she inspects the picture in the 
locket during idle moments in her chamber, yet the por- 
trait continues only a dim memory to her. She dis 
covers in almost microscopic characters at its foot, the 
name of ‘'Amalfi,” presumably the artist who painted 
it, but this brings no suggestion with it, and finally the 
locket almost passes from her mind, the girl having 
other and more important matters on her brain, the 
chief of which is her father and Captain Hampton. 

As to the first, a great joy wells up in her heart 
hungry for his affection, as at times she ponders of her 
father’s hardness to others and his liberality to her, for 
she concludes his open handedness to her in New York 
must have been on account of his great devotion to her. 

This is fortunate, as soon after an incident arises that 
tests her love and makes the strain upon her obedience 
very heavy. As the days have run on. Miss Godfrey 
has several times spoken to her father with regard to 
the Texan Captain who had escorted her across the 
prairies, once or twice suggesting that as San Antonio 
is only forty miles away, a note be sent to Hampton 
asking him to visit their hacienda, if he can find time 
from military preparation, that she may thank him 
again. 

These suggestions Godfrey has generally put away 
with the remark that he is too busy for company and 
hasn’t the time to entertain a military lounger. 

At her repeated mention of Hampton’s name, her 


178 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


father has looked at her sharply and seemed not 
over pleased at her enthusiastic gratitude to her pro- 
tector of the prairies; and once he has brought con- 
sternation on her by chuckling : “J^st hold your horses 
a little, daughter. Soon there’ll be a fine young fellow 
to ride around the plantation with you and do the po- 
lite.’’ 

She is so abashed at this, she doesn’t ask her father 
to whom he refers ; though she guesses. 

Finally one day a wagon arrives from Matagorda 
bearing Estrella’s trunks. 

“You can thank Jasper for your baggage,” laughs 
Godfrey. “Lord, how he must have shoved things to 
get your belongings up over these muddy roads in this 
time. Besides, at my suggestion, he had a feminine 
side-saddle sent from New Orleans. It’s here also. 
Now you can ride woman fashion again. I reckon that 
will please you.” 

“It does !” cries the girl, who has already taken from 
one of her trunks her New York riding-habit, her In- 
dian prairie costume having grown rather worn by her 
plantation excursions. The arrival of her baggage has 
made Miss Godfrey vivaciously happy, she so longs to 
look well in her father’s eyes. She goes babbling on : 
“Dad, what will you think of me in this ?” and crying : 
“Tulle over white satin, that will make you open 
your backwood’s eyes. You never saw your daughter 
in decollete Parisian ballgown in your life, did you, 
papa ?” 

Yet in the very midst of her delight, Estrella’s face 
grows agitated and miserable. The driver of the wa- 
gon chancing to state that the news is that Sam Walk- 
er’s and Sharpe Hampton’s companies of Hays’s Regi- 
ment of Rangers are already mustered in and are to 
start at once for the Rio Grande, where things look like 
blood betwixt Taylor and the Greasers, she leads God- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


179 


frey to one side and breaks forth suddenly and nervous- 
ly, yet quite bashfully : ‘‘Dad, I must write to Captain 
Hampton before he goes to battle to tell him that Tve 
not forgotten him then pauses astounded at her 
father’s manner, for he says to her quite sharply : “I 
don’t wish you to write to Captain Hampton. Your 
very enthusiasm may put some foolish ideas into his 
head now that he wears real regular Government shoul- 
der-straps.” 

“Foolish ideas ? What do you mean, papa ?” 

“Well, ideas that you may have more than gratitude 
for him.” 

At this, Estrella’s face gets as red as some poppies 
standing on the table; she says indignantly: “Surely, 
my father doesn’t think I have been unduly forward 
with any gentleman.” 

“Certainly not,” answers Godfrey heartily. 

“Then let me tell you Captain Hampton’s bearing to 
me when I was alone in his hand on the prairie was the 
impersonation of respect,” she draws herself up very 
haughtily. 

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” answers her father. 
The trouble is, this rough-riding ranger is too chivalric 
and too brave. It’s these very qualities that make him 
dangerous to romantic girls. Therefore, I judge it best 
that you do not write to him.” 

“But, father, he will think me ungrateful. I cannot 
permit that. Fie is going to — to danger. I must 
write.” 

“Understand me, Strella,” replies Godfrey, his tone 
more severe than it has ever been to her. “You have 
offered me a daughter’s full duty and obedience. That 
I exact from you. I don’t wish you to write to Captain 
Hampton.” 

So her father goes away, leaving the young lady with 
tears in her eyes and rebellion in her heart. In the 


i8o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


enthusiasm of first meeting it had been easy to oflfer 
obedience. Tis difficult now to fulfil her promise. For 
Estrella Godfrey had been accustomed to do pretty 
much her own will with Mr. Martin of New York, and 
had been but slightly chided at school, and now it seems 
hard to her in her young womanhood, when her soul is 
yearning to do a thing, to be told : “Thou shalt not.” 

She thinks deeply, then sighs to herself : “I — I can- 
not let him go perhaps to death and think me an in- 
grate.” 

The evening of the third day thereafter, she astounds 
her father. Immediately after supper, she says : “Papa, 

I ” and hesitates and trembles, something she had 

never done before any man. “I — do not wish to have 
any secrets from you ; I think it right to tell you that 
I wrote to Captain Hampton three days ago.” 

“What ! You mean to tell me after your voluntary 
promises of a daughter’s duty, that you have deliberate- 
ly disobeyed me?” Godfrey says slowly as if he can’t 
believe. 

“Yes, if that’s the way you put it, I — I did disobey 
you.” 

“How did you send the letter?” His face is flushed 
by a terrible anger., 

“That I don’t wish to tell you. It might get some 
of your servants into trouble.” 

“It will get some of my servants into trouble.” And 
Zelma, chancing to have come into the dining-room on 
some of her duties, Godfrey says sharply to her: 
“Here, wench, your mistress wrote a letter. Tell me 
what she did with it.” 

“Master, I — I don’t know,” stammers the octoroon. 

“Yer face says that ye’re lying to me,” cries her mas- 
ter, savagely, for Zelma’s pretty knees are shaking un- 
der her. “Now if you want to save your white skin, 


THE SPY COMPANY. l8l 

lady, tell me, or Fll take you down to my 
office and give you the rawhide till you do.” 

Here Miss Godfrey, stepping between them, says in- 
dignantly : ‘‘You shall not punish Zelma for my fault. 
I took the letter out myself and gave it to Pablo.” 

“What, that nigger-Greaser, who drives one of my 
ox-teams to San Antonio?” asks her father, his face 
growing more tranquil. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Humph, gave it to Pablo. Very well, I suppose it 
cannot be helped now,” he says, as if the affair was be- 
yond his grasp. Then he commands: “Go to your 
room, ’Strella. Your disobedience has wounded me — 
No, I shall not permit you to kiss me,” for she is plead- 
ing even as she goes away: “Forgive me, father. I 
felt I must write — forgive me !” 

Perhaps Miss Godfrey would not be so contrite did 
she know that ox-teams travel exceedingly slowly, 
therefore Pablo won’t arrive at San Antonio until the 
morrow, and that a few minutes after she has told her 
father, one of his under superintendents on horseback is 
speeding along the San Antonio road, charged not to 
spare his horse. 

Late the next morning, Estrella, waking up, gasps 
suddenly: “What load is this upon my heart?” then 
remembering, sighs : “For the first time I have dis- 
pleased my dear father.” Rising rather languidly from 
the bed, after a time, she thinks a ride will give her 
better spirits, and gives her orders to this effect. 

Some few minutes after, as she comes down in her 
riding habit, Zelma says timidly to her : “The master. 
Miss Strella, wants you in the dining-room.” 

“Certainly,” and she goes in bravely yet almost peni- 
tently to endure her father’s correction, little guessing 
that he has now in his pocket her letter to Hampton, 
which he has just opened and read. 


i 82 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


An innocent little note, it reads simply : 

“Dear Captain Hampton: 

Hearing that you leave for the front, I would like to say 
good-bye to you, and thank you once more for your care 
and kindness to me in the long ride over the prairies. 

As your regiment or company must pass not very far 
from us on its way to the South, if it is possible, ride over, 
if only for a few minutes, and let me say adieu to one for 
whose safety in battle I shall ever pray. 

Yours most gratefully, 

ESTRELLA GODFREY. 

P.S. — Do you recognize the little wild flower, one of 
those you gathered for me on the prairie? The rest I shall 
keep.” 

This 'postscript and this wild flower make Godfrey 
very stern Avith his daughter as she comes in, and 
looking lovingly yet anxiously into his face pleads : 
“Father, am I forgiven?” 

“Not until I have made you know you must never 
disobey me.” 

“Oh, papa!” Her face flushes as she stands before 
him, her graceful pose in her riding-habit as drooping 
as poor Psyche’s when that unfortunate nymph awaited 
Venus’s chastisement, for Miss Godfrey has not been 
accustomed to childish correction. 

Perchance it is the riding-habit that puts the idea in 
her father’s head. He says sternly : “For your of- 
fence, I am going to take away from you the use of 
Mulefoot.” 

“What, his gift?” 

‘'His gift” makes her father very angry. He says 
determinedly : “Yes, you ride no more for the present. 
Put your foot over that mare’s back, and Pll have her 
shot.” 

“0-o-oh 1” gasps the lovely culprit, and she runs out 
onto to the porch, and fondling the graceful neck of the 
black mare, cries to the negro boy : “Take her away, 


THE SPY COMPANY. 

quick!” as if she feared her father even now might 
destroy the Ranger’s present. 

Coming in from this, she half sobs: “That was a 
cruel threat, father; that was a cruel threat!” 

Debarred of horseback exercise. Miss Godfrey dur- 
ing the next few days turns to Hampton’s other pres- 
ent. She takes to practising at a mark with the two re- 
volvers the Ranger had given to her, and in the course 
of time, remembering his directions, becomes quite 
deadly with these weapons, and jeers herself as she 
makes bull’s-eyes. “It wouldn’t take three shots now 
to kill a poor mustang,” or, “I don’t think I’d miss that 
Comanche the first time I’d pulled trigger at him.” 
Then imitating Wild Harry, she cries : “Waugh, I am 
becoming a frontier girl, I am !” 

During these days, Pablo, returning from his trip to 
San Antonio, is eagerly questioned by his young mis- 
tress : To her the mestizo says : “Yas, I gabe de 
lettah to dat Ranger Capt’in.” 

“And then?” Miss Godfrey’s tone is very eager. 

“Den he took a glass of noyau and says : 'Dat’s all 
right,’ and stuck it in him pocket. He was drinkin’ wid 
some udder of dose Ranger fellahs. Santos, all dat dey 
is talkin’ now is ’bout butcherin’ der Greasers down on 
de Rio Grande.” 

“He said nothing — ^nothing else ?” 

“Not a word of mouth !” 

“You’re sure it was Captain Hampton ?” 

“Sartin ! Caspita, ev’rybody know dat diahlo Sharpe 
Hampton !” 

Then Miss Godfrey goes silently away. Pablo, half 
Mexican, half negro, but whole slave of her father, has 
done his work very well, as the poor wretch had good 
reason for doing, having promise of a silver dollar if 
he lies straight, and fifty lashes at the whipping-post if 


184 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


he blabs about the letter having been taken from him 
by Godfrey’s orders. 

But a month passing and no acknowledgement nor 
visit coming from Hampton, and the news being 
brought by teamsters that Sam Walker’s and Sharpe 
Hampton’s companies have left Sa 1 i\ntonio and gone 
down in advance of Hays’s Regiment to join Taylor’s 
army, the girl’s face grows prouder, yet paler. 

The Ranger’s seeming neglect brings her nearer to 
her father once more ; she sighs to herself : ‘T disobeyed 
and wounded my dear old dad by perhaps being unduly 
forward with this man who thinks more of killing 
Greasers than of being polite to me,” and forgives her 
“dear dad” for his severity about Mulefoot, and goes 
to making his house very pleasant for him, embellishing 
it with many of the little feminine nick-nacks which 
have arrived with her trunks, and decking herself each 
evening in pretty gowns to make her father proud of 
her. 

So time runs along until one morning towards the 
end of May, Estrella hears a commotion and cheering 
outside the gates of the big patio. Coming out she 
finds quite a little concourse of the hunters and trappers 
and German immigrants of the estate, who are standing 
about some wagons which have arrived from Mata- 
gorda. Their cry is that the war has begun, and that 
Taylor has defeated the Mexicans in two pitched bat- 
tles. Chancing to hear the name of Sharpe Hampton 
mentioned, Miss Godfrey gets hold of a newspaper that 
has been brought up by one of the teamsters, and tak- 
ing it to her room, sits down and reads in the Galveston 
Herald an account of that glorioiis deed of arms which 
probably prevented the discomfiture of Taylor’s Army. 

It states that the Texan Rangers under Sam Walker 
and Sharpe Hampton arrived by forced marches at 
Point Isabella, which Taylor had made his depot for 
provisions and supplies, though he had located his army 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


185 


twenty-five miles away on the Rio Grande, having built 
the fortification known as Fort Brown opposite the 
Mexican town of Matamoras. That when the Rangers 
had left Point Isabella to join the American forces, 
they had immediately found themselves confronted by 
the whole Mexican army, under Arista, which had got 
between Taylor and his base of supplies, and was now 
about to crush the slender garrison of Point Isabella. 
Knowing that intelligence of this was vital to the 
American commander, six men had volunteered to make 
their way by night through the whole Mexican army, 
and that but two had got through alive, Sam Walker 
and Sharpe Hampton. 

This information, so desperately borne, had been the 
salvation of General Taylor, who, leaving a heavy gar- 
rison in Fort Brown, had immediately returned to Point 
Isabella and reinforced his base of supplies. Then he 
had turned upon his foe again and fought his way once 
more to the Rio Grande, winning the two pitched bat- 
tles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. Even the 
account of the gallant Ringgold, killed mid his batteries 
during the first engagement, or the charge of May’s 
Dragoons at Resaca de la Palma, where they had sa- 
bered the Mexican gunners, and in which she sees 
young Pelham’s name honorably mentioned, is naught 
in her mind as her eyes grow misty over the last para- 
graph of the article, which states that both these glori- 
ous victories had been made possible by the unexampled 
feat of Captains Samuel H. Walker and Sharpe Selby 
Hampton. 

Over this she gets to crying and wringing her hands 
and muttering : “He only thinks of battle.” 

Then awed and ashamed at the intensity of her own 
emotion, Estrella dries her eyes and comes down to her 
father. 

This gentleman is sitting on the porch and greets her 


i86 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


in happy voice: “By golly, the war’s commenced 
that’ll give us a fortune !” 

Here consternation seems to come upon her father 
in his elation, for a wild idea entering Estrella’s mind 
places a wistful hope in her excited eyes. She says 
hurriedly: “Dad — answer me one question, 'square as 
you hope to see your God. Have you ever intercepted 
any letters ?” 

“What do you mean, girl?” cries Godfrey, starting 
up, his face for a moment on fire, then growing pallid. 

“Oh, I mean, you have never intercepted any letters 
from — from Captain Hampton to me ?” 

“Certainly not,” says her father promptly, his fea- 
tures becoming more composed. Then he breaks forth : 
“You — ^you haven’t had any correspondence with this 
man ? Answer me square as you hope to see your God, 
girl!” 

“No, father; nothing but the one letter that I told 
you of, and — and — which you were perfectly right in 
forbidding me to send, but I am punished for it. Oh, 
Heaven, what a humiliation !” she shudders half hys- 
terically. “Why I — I kind of threw myself at his. head. 
At least, I — I — gave him a hint, I ” And her beau- 

tiful face is so piteous that Godfrey, knowing what he 
does, should have compunctions of conscience. 

But his daughter’s confession only seems to make 
him alarmed and angry. Still, judging that wounded 
pride will now make the penitent pliable to his wishes, 
he controls himself, and, putting his arm possessively 
about her, says : “I don’t wish to mention this Hamp- 
ton matter again. Understand me, you are to have no 
further communication with this man.” 

“Yes, my self respect should keep me from that,” 
breaks out the girl, her lips trembling, her eyes full of 
tears. 

“And if you have not pride in this yourself,” mutters 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


187 


Godfrey sternly, “by the Lord Harry, I have pride 
enough as our father to keep you from it. Disobey me 
in this, and I shall punish you severely.” 

“Yes, dad !” she cries almost deliriously, “Only for- 
give me for having disobeyed you,” and she half hys- 
terically throws herself sobbing into her father’s arms. 

At her submission a look of tremendous relief rip- 
ples Godfrey’s stern features. Apparently filled with 
gratitude at her devotion, seating himself, he draws the 
beautiful penitent upon his knee and thanks her for her 
compliance with his wishes. 

And she, filled with joy that the difference between 
her and her father is now absolutely healed, and feeling 
that he entirely loves her, this being the first time he 
has ever treated her with so much paternal familiarity, 
clinging to him, sobs her heart out upon his breast. 

So a couple of days later, Godfrey, thinking his 
daughter is well in hand, makes Estrella’s pallid feat- 
ures grow very red by saying : “You needn’t mope for 
gentlemen’s company from now on, daughter. There’s 
more news come by , wagon from Matagorda. My su- 
perintendent, the boy who is like a son to me, will be up 
this evening to talk to me about our big contracts for 
cattle to be delivered to Taylor’s Army. He’s a mighty 
smart fellow and tends to business and is more to my 
liking than these high-falutin’, harum-scarum Ranger 
chaps, who haven’t more than a dirty shirt and a six- 
shooter to their names.* Have a nice supper and your 
wench rigged out for company in the dining-room. Get 
his room fixed up smart and put sheets on his bed. 
Spruce up a little yourself and do your politest, daugh- 
ter.” 

*A Texan Ranger’s costume was described as a dirty 
shirt and a six-shooter; but it was by the same wag who 
stated the costume of a Georgia Colonel was a shirt collar 
and a pair of spwrs—Ei.for. 


i88 


the! spy company. 


To this Miss Godfrey responds tenderly: ‘Tapa, 
don’t I always feed you well? I’ll have your superin- 
tendent’s room in order and see that everything is as 
you wish.” 

So this evening, arrayed in pretty white muslin, the 
girl comes tripping down, prepared to make herself 
pleasant to her father’s protege, to be struck with con- 
sternation, dismay and affright. 

As she enters the supper-room, a gentleman, whose 
clothes indicate hasty frontier travel, but who wears 
conspicuously a little golden circle, rises to greet her. 

“Strella,” says her father, rather nervously, “let me 
present to you, Jasper Moncton, the superintendent of 
my plantations, whom I have spoken to you about so 
often, my trusted right-hand man and friend/' 

At these words bashful trepidation overwhelms her. 
This meeting has been so unexpected, so unannounced. 
True, the girl has heard the darkeys talk of “Massa 
Munktoon,” and her father has spoken of “J^-sper,” 
but has never connected the two names. 

With a slightly amused smile Moncton observes : 
“Yes, we met in Saratoga some two years ago, didn’t 
we. Miss Godfrey?” Then his dark eyes gleam pos- 
sessively as they inspect the loveliness of the maid, her 
light muslin dress displaying the graces of her figure, 
and her beauty perhaps added to by eyes that are spark- 
ling with a kind of modest terror, for now she remem- 
bers what this man had said to her when she had re- 
jected him two years ago. 

Seeming to read her thoughts, Jasper laughs slightly : 
“From your face. I’m sure you recollect. You were 
in costume at the fancy ball at Saratoga,” adding sig- 
nificantly : “I told you that we’d meet again.” 

Godfrey making no comment on the man’s words, 
Estrella is even more impressed, being certain that her 
father must have known all this time of their previous 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


189 


meeting. With this ominous thought in her head, the 
young lady has no appetite for supper, though both 
gentlemen chat to her quite merrily, and Moncton’s 
glances show open admiration of her beauties, which 
had been enticing as a schoolgirl, but now in her ex- 
quisite young womanhood are enchanting and over- 
powering. 

The meal being finished, at Godfrey’s request, she 
sings, though in half-hearted voice, the songs he likes, 
and even, at Moncton’s suggestion, makes very bad 
work of some Italian bravura music. But after this 
is over, leaving the gentlemen smoking their cigars and 
drinking their hot whiskey punches together, she comes 
up to her bedroom. Here her face is so perturbed and 
startled that Zelma, who is waiting for her, gasps : 
“What is the matter. Miss Strella? Is it because he’s 
the chap who made love to you at Saratoga that you 
look so scared ?” 

To her maid the mistress answers nothing, but step- 
ping out on to the veranda of her room, presses her 
hand to her beating heart and falters : “Why should 
I not fear this insidious man, whose hand I spurned 
in Saratoga, who told me that sooner or later I should 
be his ; that the object of his life would be to gain me. 
What does this mean ? When here, alone, far from the 
world, I find him my father’s confidant and my father’s 
— master r she starts, shuddering at her own sinister 
idea, but still repeats it mentally: “That’s what was 
in his eyes. Master ! I saw it twice when he glanced 
towards my father at the table; then turned his gaze 
on me as if I had been brought here for his wooing. 
God help me, that’s what has happened to me! I 
have been brought here by my father for this man 
to conquer and make his.” 

Even now it scarce seems real to her, but Moncton’s 
voice is heard down stairs calling dominantly in 


190 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


slightly intoxicated tones: “Zelma, you wench, skip 
quick with a new whiskey bottle, Madame China doll 
Turning her fair eyes over the prairie looking to- 
wards the Rio Grande, Estrella whispers to the night 
wind : “Hampton — I fear I need you — Hampton ! You 
saved me from Indians; save me from worse!” then 
sighs despairingly: “Oh, my God, even he’s deserted 
me !” And misery and terror battle with her love. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

SHARPE Hampton’s sweetheart. 

After an almost sleepless night. Miss Godfrey be- 
comes satisfied that what she had divined the evening 
before is the grim truth. Coming down stairs next 
morning, with a sinking of the heart at wounded mod- 
esty and humbled pride, Estrella finds that she has 
been brought from far away New York to this distant 
Texas plantation to be convenient for the wooing of 
Jasper Moncton. 

True, she is not told this in so many words. But at 
first opportunity her father says to her, when they are 
alone together, Moncton being busied with some plan- 
tation affairs, for he immediately devotes himself to 
running the business of the big estate : “Strella, there’s 
a wonderful fellow. No sooner has he fixed up a big 
mule and cattle trade with the United States quarter- 
master and commissariat officers, who are picking up 
things for use in the coming war, than he’s up here 
getting the stuff to fill the contracts. He’s just the 
kind of a man for this country. In fact, he’s the spruce 
young fellow that I would like to settle down with 
you.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


191 

“Father, please tell me exactly what you mean?” 
Though she asks the question, the girl guesses too well 
at what he hints. 

“Oh, what I said to you when you first came and 
made this place a kind of paradise to your old father,” 
he answers; “Jasper’s the kind of man that you should 
marry, one who won’t take you away from me.” 

She doesn’t reply to this, but goes out into the patio 
and is very haughty to Moncton, when that dark-eyed, 
dashing fellow, whose manners have the polish of the 
Mississippi River boat, but hardly the delicacy of a 
drawing-room, comes riding up and says : “Good 
morning, Miss Strella. The cotton fields are looking 
mighty well and the plants doing finely. Like to have 
a jaunt and look over them with me ?” 

“Thank you, Mr. Moncton,” she answers coolly. 
“Papa has forbidden me the use of my horse. It was 
a punishment for disobeying him.” 

“Ah, she’s a little skittish, is she, Godfrey?” laughs 
Jasper in a way that makes her writhe. Then he 
makes her writhe a little more ; he suggests : “I’ll 
make your peace with your father,” and tears come 
into the girl’s eyes at humiliated pride as he says : 
“Jim, you mustn’t be too hard on your pretty daugh- 
ter. At my request, let up on her a little and permit 
her to have her mare to ride over the plantation with 
me.” 

“Why, of course, if you ask it,” answers Godfrey, 
and turning to his daughter, he says: “You ought to 
thank Moncton for begging you off. Now run up- 
stairs and get into your riding habit.” 

“Excuse me. Deprived of the exercise, I have 
rather lost my taste for it,” she remarks indifferently. 

“Shucks, you need it. It’ll make you brisker,” re- 
turns her father. Then his eyes grow entreating: 
“You’ll do it for your old daddy?” 


192 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Yes, if you’ll go with us, papa !” she answers affec- 
tionately. 

“Reckon, I must,” laughs Godfrey. Some minutes 
after the young lady sweeps down haughty as a god- 
dess, and stands waiting for her horse, the glove-like 
bodice of the riding-habit of that day tracing each 
rounded outline of bust and shoulders, and the folds 
of its cloth skirt indicating limbs graceful as a nymph’s. 

His eyes on fire, Moncton steps to assist the beauti- 
ful creature into the saddle. But motioning the darkey 
boy to lead Mulefoot beside the veranda, Estrella 
springs on the mare’s back and makes Jasper and God- 
frey scowl at her by laughing : “Dad, Captain Hamp- 
ton showed me that trick !” 

Then she rides off with the two men, taking care all 
through the excursion to keep quite close to her father’s 
side. But she feels in better spirits for the exercise, 
and quite politely thanks Mr. Moncton for the side- 
saddle. 

So the days go on, the girl acting as her father’s 
housekeeper and seeing his home is made pleasant, but 
feeling that pressure is being gradually brought on 
her in the matter of Moncton’s suit. Though perhaps 
it is foolishly brought, for it makes her indignant and 
rebellious. Before, when she had disobeyed her father, 
she has felt sad about it. Now she doesn’t care. She 
would write other letters to the Ranger, but he is far 
from her, and her pride has been too severely wounded 
at receiving no answer nor visit from this man. 

In addition she is now quite certain that there is 
some secret compact between Godfrey and Moncton, 
by which the superintendent holds her father at his 
mercy. On the long, hot nights the two have got to 
drinking together, and whiskey having made their 
tongues careless, once she has heard the employe 


THE SPY COMPANY. 193 

threaten : “Make your gal quit being offish with me. 
You know you’ve got to do it, Jim.” 

And now, being driven desperate, for she is not 
always able to decline Jasper’s attentions, which are 
proffered at every convenient opportunity, and which 
under her father’s eye she sometimes cannot entirely 
refuse, one day she speaks to Godfrey confidentially, 
saying: “Dear dad, if Moncton has any hold upon 
you •” 

“Any hold upon me !” half screams her father. 
“What do you mean, girl? Answer, what do you 
mean ?” 

“Only this,” she says, bravely, though the appear- 
ance of Godfrey is such that it frightens her : “Tell 
me about it, and we will together face this man. Send 
him away. We were happy before he came. For your 
continued pressure upon me to accept his hand is mak- 
ing me undutiful even to you, dear dad.” 

Recovering his composure at his daughter’s speech, 
Jim Godfrey answers so sorrowfully that he gains his 
child’s sympathy. “He does have a hold upon me! 
I should think you could see that and not be so saucy 
with the handsome young fellow, who is sweet on you 
as a bee is on honey. You know he’s cottoned to you 
ever since he saw you at Saratoga. He told me that 
when he came back from the North.” 

“So it is true, what I guessed, that I have been 
brought here to this plantation to be wooed by this 
man whether I willed or not,” mutters Estrella bitter- 
ly ; then asks reproachfully : “How could you ?” 

“Because I could not help it !” says her father, sig- 
nificantly. 

“Impossible I” cries the girl. “How dare Moncton 
dictate to you or me.” 

“In this way,” answers Godfrey, impressively. “Af- 
ter the plantation was destroyed, I was powerful short 


194 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


of ready money. Even with the gold I had recovered 
it has been a great work to build up this place. I had 
to pay the expenses of German immigrants so as to 
have settlers enough to make my title to my land grant 
good. In addition, these big gangs of niggers cost a 
pile of money. I had to borrow it, and Moncton came 
forward with the ready cash. Until lately, when this 
war has given me a little chance to crawl out of my hole, 
I haven’t been able to get hold of any great amount of 
money. So things have gone on, until with interest 
and notes and mortgages to Moncton, he could close up 
the whole thing and put me and you out on the prairie 
with no more money than when the Rangers picked me 
up crazy after the fight at Rock Springs. But Jasper’s 
a noble fellow and ’ll see me through all right.” 

So far, Godfrey has made his plea quite skilfully, 
for his daughter has uttered a sigh of sympathy when 
he has spoken of being as penniless as when he re- 
turned to find his people massacred and his plantation 
destroyed. But now her parent makes a mistake : “It 
wouldn’t suit you, I can see,” he goes on, “with your 
fine lady airs and handsome dresses, to be put out bare- 
footed into the world. If you get high spirited with 
Moncton, I’m afraid he’ll cut up rough about it, for 
he thinks you the finest girl in the world. Remem- 
ber, every time you turn up your nose at him or say 
a saucy word to him, you’re putting danger on your 
poor old dad as well as yourself.” Noting that direct 
methods make his child rebellious, Godfrey is playing 
the aged parent act. 

, Her answer proves he is doing his role quite well. 
“I don’t think of myself, father,” says the girl, gen- 
erously, “though I will think of you. Give me time to 
consider this subject, and if the task is not too hard, 
perhaps ” 

“You’ll do the right thing by Jasper,” cries the old 


THE $PY COMPANY. 


195 

man, enthusiastically. “You’ll marry him; you’ll give 
me grandchildren to play about my knee — ” 

But the future grandfather has painted domestic life 
tOo vividly. His daughter emits a short, horrified 
scream and runs away, though her face is not blush- 
ing ; it is pale with repulsion. 

To her father, some little time afterwards, she says : 
“It is impossible ! Ask me to work for you ; ask me 
to slave for you ; but marry that man, I cannot.” 

But it is very hard for a girl practically alone with 
these two men on this secluded plantation, to always 
resist a father whom she loves and always to repel the 
attention of a dashing, persavering fellow, who will 
assist her into the saddle and ride at her side, for under 
paternal eyes Estrella cannot always decline Moncton’s 
escort. 

About this time horror comes to her; the maiden, 
shrinking from Jasper’s wooing, begins to fear that 
punishments are ordered to the negroes so that she will 
beg them off from her suitor. For now she finds that 
to get mercy for the slaves, as has been her wont, she 
has to plead with Moncton, not her father. But her 
humanity is greater than her pride, and she humbles 
herself to do this, though on one of these occasions 
Jasper says to her : “Am I always to — to do your bid- 
ding for nothing? Don’t you, my dear girl, remember 
Saratoga? Why do you always greet with cold looks 
the fellow who you know is bound to have you ?’^ 

His audacious arm would go round her enticing 
waist, but she mutters faintly: “Have pity on my 
father,” yet shudders from him, hanging her fair head 
abashed beneath his too ardent gaze. 

And perhaps this young lady, who has grown droop- 
ing and pathetic during these two summer months of 
constant pressure and persuasion, might succumb to 
her father’s entreaties, which become each day more 
urgent, did not about this time arise in her mind first 


196 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


a mighty joy, then a tremendous, awe-inspiring sus- 
picion. 

Knowing that Hampton has left San Antonio with 
his company full two months before this, Godfrey one 
day proposes that Estrella take a trip to that town with 
Moncton and himself, as he has to see Hays, the Col- 
onel of the Texan Rangers, whose young face is grow- 
ing old with his efforts to get his full regiment equipped 
and down to Taylor at Matamoras. But the State of 
Texas is very slow and very poor, and the Texan 
Colonel, having some difficulty in mounting his com- 
mand, is now trying to induce Godfrey to take his 
guarantee and that of the State and furnish him the 
horses. 

So the girl, anxious to get away from a monotony 
that has overburdened her spirits, makes with her 
father and her suitor a very long afternoon ride, and 
arrives in San Antonio de Bexar, coming up the banks 
of its beautiful tree-shaded river into the old town that 
a few years before had been entirely Mexican, but now 
has a few Gringos in its inhabitants and a lot of Texan 
Rangers about its unpaved streets. 

The evening is well advanced when she arrives, and 
Estrella, arising rather late the next morning, finds 
that her father and Moncton have left the old Mexican 
inn and have gone off to their business with the Ran- 
ger officers. After a cup of chocolate and a hmelo, 
Spanish fashion, she wanders about the dreamy old 
pueblo, gazing at the Alamo as a sacred place, 
and thinking of the martyrdom, ten years before, of 
Travis, Bonham, Bowie and Crockett, and those other 
Texan immortals who died that their State might live. 

Finally, strolling from the ruins of the old church 
fortress, whose battered walls are the altar of Texan 
liberty, she returns to the old tavern in which the party 
have made their headquarters. Here her father and 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


197 


Moncton come in, the latter saying gloomily : “No 
trade. Hays has nothing better than Texas scrip to 
offer us.” 

“Yes, as soon as we have dinner, we’ll get into the 
saddle again for Live Oaks,” remarks Gpdfrey, who 
has just kissed his daughter’s lips, proffered for morn- 
ing’s greeting. 

They are about to sit down to a mid-day meal when 
a faint cheering comes very distantly up the street. 
“Jingo, wonder if there’s news of another victory 
from Taylor?” remarks her father. 

“Don’t think that’s possible,” says Moncton ; “Tay- 
lor won’t be able to move for a couple of months at the 
rate he’s getting ready.” 

“Yes, and you’re keeping him from it,” cries Es- 
trella; “such men as you, father. When you say that 
American victory means the settlement of all these 
lands and enormous wealth to you, why don’t you give 
up a little for the present and let Hays have horses for 
his regiment, who defend us from Indians and Mexi- 
cans ?” 

“Why, you’re quite a stump speaker,” laughs Monc- 
ton, and her father smilingly pats his daughter’s cheek 
and says : “Business first, my child ; then sentiment.” 

About this time a Ranger comes riding up, and 
checking his pony in front of the hotel, calls : “Jack 
Hays wants to see you again, gentlemen. He’s got 
something from Taylor’s quartermaster, gentlemen, 
that will fix you, he says.” 

“Golly, a contract from Uncle Sammy !” cries Monc- 
ton, and the two men go out together and hurry down 
the street, leaving Miss Godfrey alone to get a Mex- 
ican dinner. 

So smiling rather sadly at herself, the young lady 
rolls in her pretty fingers tortillas and dips up with 
them her stew of chili-colorado and tasajo. 


198 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Then, interested in the life in the pueblo, she wan- 
ders off by herself into the picturesque Spanish streets, 
and is quite contentedly inspecting some Mexican boys 
with donkeys and women who are washing clothes on 
the banks of San Pedro Creek, when to her delight 
and astonishment she chances to raise her bright eyes 
and place them upon Wild Harry. 

To her excited : “Mr. Love, don’t you remember 
Estrella Godfrey?” he answers rather surlily: “Sure 
I remember ye, miss. But it seemed to me as if ye 
didn’t remember ns:' 

“Remember you. Why not ? Did you not hear what 
I said to you when you left me : ‘To come to the 
hacienda if you ever wanted a home or a friend.’ ” 
Then she breaks out reproachfully : “And you didn't 
go to the front with Hampton’s company?” 

The answer she gets horrifies her. 

“No, I’m in Gillespie’s,” answers Harry gloomily. 
“I didn’t care to go with a man what’s got death in 
his eye. I want one chance for my life and I don’t 
think Sharpe Hampton cares to have any chance. Ye 
see thar are some purty nice gals that gets men’s hearts, 
and, well — well, ye’re the only woman that ever didn’t 
take a shine to Sharpe Hampton.” 

“I don’t understand what you mean to insinuate,” 
returns the reproached one, haughtily. “Even if you 
are crazy, you’ve no right to speak to me in that man- 
ner or on such a subject.” Miss Godfrey moves away, 
but, womanlike, she will have the last word. She turns 
and adds: “Besides, you’re unjust.” 

“Unjust? No, I ain’t unjust and I ain’t crazy. I’m 
only cute, I am.” 

But Estrella is so eager in her self-exculpation that 
she goes on : “I did write to Captain Hampton.” 

“Wall, then he never got it.” 

“Never got it! What makes you think that?” asks 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


199 

Miss Godfrey, her eyes, that had been distressed, now 
beaming as the sun on Mr. Love. 

“Wall, when I bid Sharpe good-bye, he said : . ‘Har- 
ry, ye’ll find me t’other side of Jordan.’ And,” asserts 
the Texan, inspecting the superb yet ethereal creature 
who stands blushing before him, “no man that ye’d 
treated just right and was dead honey on ye from his 
spurs to his scalp-lock, would want to go t’other 
side of Jordan unless he toted ye with him !” 

“Never got it! Never got my letter! And Pablo 
swore he delivered it.” 

“What! Pablo, a Gfeaser, I reckon? Trust a 
Greaser? Waugh! Somebody’s been ambushin’ ye, 
Miss Godfrey.” 

“Perhaps,” answers Estrella, so sadly that Mr. Love 
suggests encouragingly : “Keep up yer spunk ! Seein’ 
ye ain’t to blame, Pll tell the Cap ! Perhaps that will 
save his life.” 

“Oh, will you?” cries the young lady, for this mat- 
ter is too close to her to let false modesty thwart it. 
“Please tell Captain Hampton that I did write to him 
and that I am grateful for all that he has done for me. 
Please don’t fail to tell him that.” 

Here Love gives her an awful shock. He chuckles : 
“Very well, Pll tell on ye right off.” 

“Right off? What do you mean?” 

“I mean Cap Hampton’s just come up from Mata- 
moras, ridin’ day an’ night, with an order from Uncle 
Sam’s Quartermaster-Gineral that will git the horses 
for our rigiment from any bronco dealer on earth. 
Ye just take yer stand by the river bank down yonder 
in them pecans, Miss. Pll bring him to yer,” and 
Harry strides away. 

During this last oration, the maiden has been too 
surprised and confused to open her lips. She now runs 


200 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


after him, crying: ^‘No, no! For Heaven’s sake, what 
will he think of me !” 

‘‘That ye’re about right, I reckon,” laughs the Ran- 
ger. Gazing at her fairylike loveliness, he chuckles : 
‘T’ll tell the Cap to load fer butterfly 1” and his long legs 
soon carry him out of hearing from Miss Godfrey, the 
clinging skirt of whose riding-habit prevents very rapid 
movement. 

For a moment she stands, her eyes frightened, her 
features pale and twitching in bashful tremor; then 
her face grows red as some prairie roses at her feet; 
she says determinedly : “Fll do it 1” and walks trem- 
blingly down a lawn-like slope to sit by the side of the 
blue waters of the San Antonio flowing in pretty rip- 
ples between banks shaded picturesquely by the vary- 
ing foliage of grand oaks, graceful ash trees and a 
grove of pecans whose leaves aflford the young lady a 
grateful shade this warm July day. 

But after a little, the strain of waiting overcomes 
her; she starts as if to fly from the passions raging 
within her distracted soul, and mutters jeering- 
ly : “If he got my letter and didn’t heed it, then my 
message by word of mouth will hardly bring him to 
me.” 

A few days ago she no more could have waited for 
Hampton by appointment than have given herself to 
him unasked; but the helpless, despairing misery of 
the last month, during which have been forced on her 
the attentions of a man she loathes, from whose suit 
there is no protection by her father, when in fact she 
knows Godfrey will ultimately exercise direct authori- 
ty to compel her to become this man’s bride, lends the 
half frantic girl a kind of desperate boldness. To her- 
self she cries : “I have only had one love in this world, 
and — and Harry said that he wanted death because of 
my ingratitude. Nonsense, ’twas my love he wanted. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


201 


Hampton’s beating heart against my own told me that 
as I rode in his arms fleeing from the Comanches. It 
was the foolish, headstrong, impassioned words of that 
wild young dragoon that kept his lips silent!” then 
sneers at herself : “That’s as immodest and arrogant 
conceit as woman evef had ! No, no, I must not meet 
him ! What will my father think of my humiliating 
myself again to Hampton against his absolute com- 
mands ?” 

This she answers by: “Pish, it is not dad’s correc- 
tion I fear; ’tis that my pride may be once more 
wounded I” and muttering hoarsely : “That shall not 
be!” rises to hurry from this place. But in the very 
act she pauses and through her lips her heart speaks; 
she half screams, half falters : “Sharpe !” 

And it is as if their separation had never been; 
the Ranger Captain is looking at her as he did on the 
prairie. For Hampton, his dress disordered by the aw- 
ful travail of sixty continuous hours in the saddle, is 
standing before the beautiful object of his love. 

At her cry, the great hope that thrills him makes this 
warrior of the plains tireless, his eyes grow as brightly 
possessive as a panther’s, though hers are timid and 
shrinking as a doe’s. It is the first time she has called 
him by his Christian name; her accents carry with 
them, love, passion, greeting ! 

That during twelve weeks he has hungered for, 
dreamed of and despaired of this maiden, who looks 
beautiful as one of Diana’s nymphs eluding Actoeon, as 
with her riding skirt gathered up in one hand, she is 
trying with faltering feet to flee from him, makes him 
do the best thing for any lover — if he is loved. 

The training of a trapper is to catch his game. 
Sharpe Hampton catches his ! With one athletic stride, 
he has the flying beauty encircled by an arm of steel, 
and is half whispering, half moaning to her : “Why for 


202 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


three months did you take the sun out of my heavens, 
sweetheart?’’ and she in a semi-crazy way is sobbing 
and crying, and her fair head has fallen upon his shoul- 
der. The next second their hearts are beating against 
each other as wildly as they did when he had borne 
her in his arms over the prairie from the Indians. But 
in addition, their lips have met; not in one kiss, but 
in a dozen — not short ones, either, but whole-souled 
and passionate with youthful love. And panting on 
his breast, she who ten minutes since had thought her- 
self the most miserable girl in the world, now thinks 
herself the happiest on earth — for she knows that she 
is his. 

Then modesty getting the best of love, she falters : 
“Oh, Heavens, what must you think of me!” Next 
questions in pathetic reproach : “Sharpe, how could 
you ever go to battle and to death without even bid- 
ding me good-bye? Was it the wild words of that 
crazy Pelham, the dragoon, that I heard from over the 
balcony at Corpus Christi, when he told you to take 
good care of his treasure, that kept your lips silent 
when you — you must have known — that I loved you? 
My heart beating against yours in the wilderness as 
wildly as it does now must have told you that.” This 
last is said with averted head ; the Ranger’s eyes are 
too ardent for her to meet his glance. 

“I thought Pelham had a right to you,” answers 
Hampton, in frontier simplicity.- “Now I know he 
hadn’t. You wouldn’t give yourself to me if he had. 
You’re not the kind of girl to play with two men at 
one time.” 

“No, indeed. I’m not!” says Estrella, very truth- 
fully, and receives for her candor a very pleasant re- 
ward. 

After a little both grow slightly more rational, and 
sit down side by side. Rut soon the lady commences to 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


203 


ask questions ; “Why did you not answer my note that 
I wrote asking you before you left for danger and bat- 
tle to come and bid me good-bye 

“The only missive that I have received from your 
hacienda/’ remarks Hampton shortly, his eyes resting 
very tenderly on the loveliness before him, for the girl 
in her excitement and passion looks in the flesh even 
more enchanting than perchance she had seemed to his 
imagination, and he has thought of her very often, 
“was one from your father, in which he enclosed a 
draft on Galveston for your expenses and what he 
deemed the price of Mulefoot, that I had left as a 
present for you.” 

“Why, it was almost an insult !” cries his sweetheart, 
indignantly. 

“Yes, I hardly thought it over polite. At all events, 
I concluded it indicated your father wished to be rid of 
an unpleasant obligation.” 

“And dad did that?” says Estrella bitterly; then 
queries eagerly : “And you never received my letter 
begging you to come and say good-bye to me? The 
one with the little flower in it, one of the posies you 
plucked for me on the prairie. I kept the rest, Sharpe,” 
murmurs the girl, archly but diffidently, “though papa 
commanded me never to think of you again, and my 
pride told me that, too. And if I hadn’t been nearly 
crazy with misery, I don’t think you would have got 
me, Sharpe.” 

“Crazy with misery. You’ve turned to me because 
you’re unhappy?” 

“Oh, no; not that. But I don’t think I would have 
ever seen you again if I hadn’t been so desperate that 
I — I wasn’t as modest as I generally am.” 

Whereupon Miss Godfrey tells of Moncton’s pur- 
suit of her, stating that her father is pressing her to 
marry his superintendent because they’ll both be pan- 


204 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


pers if she doesn’t. “But I — I couldn’t give myself to 
any man but you, and — and that’s embarrassing 
enough,” falters the young lady ; for the first rap- 
ture of surrender being over, Hampton’s eyes are 
so ardent that she hangs her head, though perhaps 
she loves him more because, having modestly won her, 
he now fondles her as backwoods boy does frontier 
sweetheart. Though in truth the Captain is very ten- 
der with this graceful creature, who seems to him like 
a fairy descended to earth to bless him with her ethe- 
real beauty and radiant love. 

She now also receives the consolation of being sup- 
ported by a man who may be very diffident in his woo- 
ing, but is very strong in his possession. She is sure 
that having won her, her Ranger sweetheart will never 
permit her to be another’s. 

Hampton says shortly : “Sweetheart, don’t let that 
bother you a little bit. You just tell your dad that 
you’re Sharpe Hampton’s promised wife, and you tell 
that also to that Moncton when he comes talking honey 
to you, and he’ll know it means that he lets you alone. 


“Or,” she breaks in sadly, “or you risk your life in 
personal combat.” 

“I’m accustomed to that.” 

“Yes, you risked it against a whole Mexican army,” 
she murmurs ; then sighs : “Did you do that because 
you didn’t think you’d get me?” 

The answer that she receives is not as complimentary 
as perchance she expected. “Not exactly,” answers 
Hampton promptly. “I did it because it was my duty. 
Of course, I felt blue as thunckr, but I don’t commit 
suicide for misery. You wouldn’t want happiness to 
make a coward of me, either, I suppose ?” 

“Oh, no,” sighs his sweetheart. “Of course, I know 
you’re compelled to go to the front.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


205 


“Oh, not immediately. Taylor won’t be able to move 
for six weeks. I only brought the order up to get the 
horses for Hays’s command two hours ago. The boys 
won’t be ready to go down for two or three weeks. 
Worth’s Division won’t be concentrated at Camargo for 
a month more. A third of the volunteers and regulars 
haven’t left New Orleans yet for the big campaign in 
Northern Mexico, and by the White Buffalo, in the two 
or three weeks’ leave I’ll get” — Hampton emphasizes 
his words with a possessive pressure on the delicate 
waist that vibrates in his grasp — “we’re going to have — 
if you say so, girl — the very nicest honeymoon ” 

“Oh, Heaven !” gasps the young lady. 

“And I’m going to have the very sweetest bride man 
ever had.” 

“You mean you would marry me immediately ?” fal- 
ters Miss Godfrey, in almost terrified amazement. 
“Why, I’ve — I’ve only seen your face a few months.” 

“Oh, yes; I’ve only seen your face that time, too. 
Reckon I might as well be scared as you. But I’m 
gritty in the marriage matter, I am,” says Sharpe, en- 
thusiastically. “Bill Baldwin only knew his girl two 
days, and Luther Loring married his wife the morning 
after he rescued her from the Apaches. You’ve got 
pluck enough for a Ranger’s wife, Strella !” It’s the 
first time he has used her Christian name, but it seems 
to come easily to his tongue. “And after we’ve had two 
or three weeks of bliss, you put the kiss of a soldier’s 
wife on my lips and you say : ‘Sharpe, you go down 
and do your duty for your country.’ ” 

“But my father !” murmurs the demanded one, trem- 
blingly. 

“Oh, don’t bother yourself about him. I’ll take care 
of that. I’ve seen dads pick out the wrong men for 
their daughters’ husbands and — guess again,” laughs 
Hampton, as if the affair was settled. “You explain 


2o6 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


the matter to the old man and I’ll be down to see you 
to-morrow evening. I cannot get away before. But 
perhaps you’d better tell your father to let you stay up 
in San Antonio till the wedding.” 

“No — no, I must break it to him quietly,” pleads the 
girl. “Sharpe, give me a few hours to break it to dad, 
though I suppose he’ll see it in my. face. Besides, it 
won’t be so hard after all, for papa loves me. 

“V'ery well,” remarks Hampton, “you tell dad in 
your own way. I’m right glad you say that you’re no 
great shakes for money. Tell you the truth, that big 
hacienda always seemed to stand between us, but I’ve 
a little plantation of my own up in Shelby County, and 
if you’re the girl I think you are, you’d share my blan- 
ket if I hadn’t but one to my name !” 

“Yes, I would !” answers Strella, stoutly. Though 
her face is very red, as for this nice answer she re- 
ceives a kiss that makes her quiver from head to heel. 

“Remember this, I can’t give you more than a couple 
of days to get ready for the wedding,” whispers the 
Ranger, very longingly. 

“No, Sharpe, that’ll be enough, because I — I love 
you,” mumiurs Estrella. She puts her arms tenderly 
about him, and makes him happy with a kiss that car- 
ries her soul to her lips. 

But here Hampton mutters : “I’m afraid I’ve been 
a little selfish in my love. I’ve no right to ask you to 
hitch your fate, sweetheart, with a man’s who may be 
dead in a month. Though I’d like to call you wife 
before I die, dear one — just wouldn’t seem quite ri^ht 
if I didn’t.” 

“And you shall !” cries his fiancee, impetuously. 
“You said two days — in two days I call you husband 
and you call me ” 

“Wife!” whispers Hampton, taking off his som- 
brero to her in his simple frontier way, for the word 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


207 


“wife” produces reverence as well as ardor in true man- 
hood. 

So, with her hand in her affianced’s, Estrella strolls 
out of the pecan grove to grow red under the eyes of 
Mr. Love, who, apparently awaiting them, sits whit- 
tling a willow branch. 

The frontiersman gazes at the coming bride, emits 
a prolonged whistle and ejaculates, sententiously : 
“Dropped !” 

“Yes, I’m Sharpe Hampton’s gal !” says the new 
fiancee, bashfully but proudly, in frontier fashion, 
though in truth she wonders even now whether she is 
rational or not, her “dropping” having been so sudden. 


CHAPTER XV. 

A MIGHTY SUSPICION. 

Here Hampton says: “Love, you needn't open 
your mouth about this to the boys !” 

“No, sirree !” answers Harry. 

But Miss Godfrey, taking a sweetheart’s privilege, 
suddenly cries : “Sharpe, you haven’t had any sleep 
for sixty hours. Now, be a good boy and go off and 
get some rest. Mr. Love will take me back to the 
hotel !” 

“Right ye are,” rejoins the frontiersman, and turns 
his back abruptly upon the couple. This, as they are 
still secluded by shrubbery from the street, gives 
Hampton an opportunity for a farewell kiss. The 
girl, as she returns it, makes him very happy by prat- 
tling in an affianced’s voice : “Now please do what I 
say. Get a little sleep. You’re not all iron, you — 
you’re flesh and blood.” 


2o8 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Oh, very much flesh and blood when I get you in 
my arms,” answers Hampton, with such a look in his 
eyes that the coming bride retreats from him laugh- 
ingly, yet blushingly. To her he says, significantly : 
“Don’t forget. Sis, I’ll be down to see dad to-morrow 
evening at Live Oaks and make arrangements for the 
wedding.” 

“Yes, Sharpe, to-morrow evening,” whispers Miss 
Godfrey, and watches with her heart in her eyes the 
Captain stride back towards the Rangers’ quarters just 
across the great plaza, then very happily and excitedly 
trips off towards the inn, escorted by Mr. Love. 

“Thar’s purty considerable ginger left in Sharpe 
yit, allowin’ he’s travell’d horseback three days and 
nights runnin’, eh?” suggests Wild Harry. 

“Y-e-s.” murmurs the girl. 

“Ye look as if he’d been ’bout as spry wid ye as three 
or four city fellers !” laughs her companion, “yer hair’s 
mussed awful.” 

“Yes, but please don’t talk about it, Mr. Love,” fal- 
ters Estrella, hanging her head, though there is a 
mighty elation in her heart. She thinks : “This 

morning, shuddering from the proffered hand of Jas- 
per Moncton ; this afternoon, happy in the arms of 
Sharpe Hampton.” Suddenly her bliss is tempered 
with the direful consideration : “How shall I tell my 
father when he says what I am about to do will bring 
beggary upon him?” and the agitated girl would go 
into a miserable brown study were Mr. Love, the es- 
cort, to give her time for contemplation. 

As he walks by her side he is chuckling: “Ye war 
jisl like the coon up the tree and Martin Scott,* weren’t 

* Col. Martin Scott of the Fifth Infantry, who was killed 
when gallantly leading the American assault on the Casa Mata 
at the battle of Molino del Rey, was *so celebrated for his 
deadly marksmanship with the rifle in the South and West that 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


209 


ye, Miss ’Strella ? When he come along you say : 
‘Oh, dat you, Sharpe Hampton? You’re such a dead 
shot, ril come right down ” 

This, emphasized by the frontiersman’s coonlike ac- 
tions, would make Miss Godfrey laugh in a half bash- 
ful, half hysterical way, did not the harum-scarum fel- 
low suddenly say : “And he’s most kissed yer mam- 
my’s locket off ye.” For in her interview with her 
affianced Miss Godfrey has pulled this trinket from 
out her riding habit to show it to the Ranger Captain 
as proof of her father’s great love and tenderness for 
her, and now it is carelessly dangling about her white 
neck by its golden chain. 

“Ah, you recognize the trinket,” murmurs Miss God- 
frey, much more interested in other things than in her 
jewelry. 

“Sartin ! Every one at Live Oaks knowed that ’ere 
locket. Yer dad ordered it made down in Mata- 
moras. It’s Greaser workmanship. Look here ! 
Reckon I do know the locket !” Wild Harry takes the 
bauble as it dangles from her, and shows he is well 
acquainted with the trinket, for he presses the hidden 
spring and astounds Estrella by saying : “How do you 
like yer dad’s face!” 

“My dad’s face !” half screams the girl. 

“Shucks, it’s empty,” mutters the erratic fellow. 
“Ye yanked dad out to put Sharpe’s picture in, eh ?” 

“But there was a picture there two days ago,” whis- 
pers Estrella. “You said my father’s face!” Then 
she suddenly asks, a strange quiver in her voice : 
“What was the portrait like? You’re certain my 
father had one painted ?” 

the story of a raccoon, perched on a very high tree, seeing 
Scott pass along with a walking stick in hand, and crying out ; 
“Dat you, Martin Scott? You needn’t shoot, I’ll come down!” 
was a popular anecdote at that time. — Editof . 


210 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Oh, sure as ye’re trembling now. On ivory; or 
chiney. Yer dad said it was to send to yer mammy. 
Bless yer heart, he was so proud of his picture, he 
showed it to everybody about the plantation. Didn’t 
he show it to ye ? It had an Italian name written 
under it.” 

“Amalfi !” screams the girl. 

“Why, yes ; ye guessed it fust time !” answers Love, 
and, playing with the locket, does not note that his lis- 
tener’s face has grown pallid and her eyes strained by 
some marvellous and astounding thought. “That was 
the name of the travelling Italian that painted it,” con- 
tinues Harry, closing the trinket. “The pronouncing 
of Amalfi always kinder stuck in my windpipe. He 
was a no-count kind of a dago, who’d wandered up 
here jist afore yer dad went on that ’ere expedition 
lookin’ fer the Gran Quevira* that time when the Co- 
manches came down and wiped out the plantation and 
killed my mammy. You remember, girl, my mammy !” 
Love’s eyes grow so dim he doesn’t notice the mon- 
strous effect his words have had upon his companion. 

For Miss Godfrey is thinking very hard, and now 
has a strange suspicion in her voice, as she is saying 
with lips that have grown ashen ; “You can see my 
father to-day without wounding your feelings by visit- 
ing the place of your mother’s death. He is here in 
town.” 

“What, Jim Godfrey here! It’s strange I haven’t 
put my eyes on him !” cries Harry, heartily. 

“Yes, he’s now at the old Mexican posada, talking 
to your Colonel. Supposing you go down and shake 

* The myth of the lost mines of la Gran Quevira was at 
one time in Texas as much believed in as those of the Lost 
Cabin, the Silver Bullet and the Death Valley mines are at 
present among many of the prospectors of the West. — Editor. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


2II 


his hand, and come along with him. Fd — I’d like to 
see you very much together.” 

”Wall, Fd like to see myself together with Jim God- 
frey very much, Miss Strella,” remarks the frontiers- 
man. “Though I shan’t say nothin’ to dad. Like to 
tell dad yerself. Little bashful, eh? For Estrella is 
quivering and waving like a lily swaying in the breeze. 

"Yes, and even if you don’t see my dad,” falters the 
girl, a curious, weird intensity in her voice, "don’t say 
anything about this locket or — or anything else to 
Hampton. At least, not until you’ve seen me.” 

“Why, sartin’, but I don’t see how that makes any 
difference.” Here the frontiersman interrupts his own 
speech by suddenly crying out : “Great Golly ! Love 
has made ye luny !” 

For Estrella is reeling and gasping half hysterical- 
ly: “You said my father’s face was in that locket. 
My father’s face ! Oh, it seemed to come to me out of 
the past ! Good heavens, I begin to remember, I — I — ” 

“Holy poker, this hot sun or Sharpe Hampton has 
rubbed yer poor brain out!” mutters Wild Harry, and 
seizes the delicate girl to keep her from falling. Then 
he takes her in his strong arms and carries her back 
to the inn, where, finding her father has not returned, 
he says to the Mexican hostess : “Here’s a gal who’s 
got sunstruck or high strikes or something. Ye re- 
vive her. I’m too bashful to unlace her stays and do 
the proper thing by her!” 

As soon as “the proper thing” is done for Miss God- 
frey in the retirement of a little chamber of the posada 
by a couple of Mexican girls, Mr. Love goes away to 
find her daddy. 

Quite shortly Estrella revives and goes to pacing her 
room, muttering: “That picture taken from the 
locket, by whom? and why taken? The sight of it 
was a surprise to my father, my— Is he my father? 


212 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Oh, God, what is in my head ? Is he my father ? But 
Love will see him. Ten years can’t have changed him 
too much to be recognized. Still, it is very curious, 
very suspicious.” And she recalls the mysterious 
change in her father’s letters after the Rock Springs 
fight, and begins to remember what Hampton had told 
her on the steamer about the man they had rescued 
from the desert combat, and his going back to the Live 
Oaks hacienda, and, after discovering every living 
thing upon it dead, making up his mind to rebuild and 
restock it, though before that he had only intended to 
obtain the gold buried in its ruins and then go away 
from it. Frantically she strikes her forehead and asks : 
“Could it be possible?” and answers herself: “Yes, 
it might! Every white man on the plantation butch- 
ered. Nearly every settler that could possibly have 
seen his face gone to death at the massacres of the 
Alamo and Goliad. Every negro on his plantation run 
off ; the whole country deserted and made a desert by 
raids of the savages and forays of the Mexican ranch- 
eros. It might be !” 

Then, sweetheart’s confidence coming into her, she 
murmurs: “I must see Sharpe. I must get Wild 

Harry to bring him to me,” next pauses and mutters : 
“My Heaven, no ; ''not till I am sure. If Sharpe doubt- 
ed my father also, and dad turned out to be dad, then 
he would never forgive my husband. It will be hard 
enough now when Hampton’s marriage to me ruins 
dad,” next bursts out hysterically: “Dad! Oh, I pray 
Heaven he is dad !” and through her kindly mind comes 
a frantic hope that her suspicion may come to naught. 
She has given this man a daughter’s tender love so 
long she finds it very hard to think it only dross. She 
has placed him on high in her confidence and affec- 
tions, ’tis difficult to throw him into the dust. She 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


213 


murmurs to herself : “Oh, God, I loved him so dearly, 
and yet I must know!” 

Pacing the room, she waits for Harry to return, and, 
finally, such is her anxiety, goes down into the street 
and watches for him. 

But the Texan Ranger never comes along, and, tired 
with wracking anxiety and tremendous suspense, the 
girl goes back into the inn and seats herself on the 
low balcony of the posada and still watches. 

Shortly after Godfrey and Moncton come hastily 
walking up the street, full of the excitement of a big 
horse trade. As they pause at the entrance of the inn 
she, sitting on the low balcony that is scarce five feet 
over their heads, hears Moncton say to Godfrey : 
“That order of Uncle Sam’s Quartermaster’s all right.” 

“Sure,” replies the other ; then asks : “Do you know 
who brought it ?” and whispers some name she cannot 
distinguish. 

This is greeted by a muttered execration from Jas- 
per, who adds : “Curse him I Fortunately, he’s been 
in the saddle three days and wasn’t very lively to get 
about town to see her.” 

“That’s so much the more reason we’d better get 
her out of town quick,” answers Godfrey, and orders 
their horses to be hastily brought up. 

At their summons the girl descends to them. Fortu- 
nately, it is now growing dark, and they don’t look very 
closely at her, but when her father approaches her to 
place her in the saddle she draws slightly back and 
says : “Mr. Moncton, please.” This so delights both 
Godfrey and her suitor that both gentlemen seem 
very much pleased with their fair charge as they lope 
along. 

But between them rides a girl whose eyes sparkle 
as the stars of the night above her, and whose soul is 
wracked with “Is this man my father? If he is, for 


214 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


my suspicion I’ll sue his pardon on my bended knees. 
If he is not, let him beware, for he has accepted from 
my lips the kisses of a daughter.” In her agitation she 
has almost forgotten that she is coming bride to the 
Ranger Captain. 

Elated with Estrella’s complaisance to Moncton, and 
likewise a successful horse trade, and talking mostly 
of that, her two escorts during this dark ride do not 
note the distracting passions on Miss Godfrey’s face. 

This is very fortunate. It gives the young lady 
not only time to control the display of her emotions, 
but to determine upon her methods of action. But the 
conversation as they ride along brings Miss Godfrey’s 
thoughts once more upon her love, yet also makes her 
reticent in regard to it. 

The gentlemen are quite merry over the price they 
have got for their horses from the Ranger Colonel, 
Godfrey saying: “Jingo, didn’t Hays hold out on the 
figure for those broncos ; but he had to have the nags 
to get his command down to Taylor in time,” adding, 
grimly: “Reckon many of his boys will leave their 
bones the other side of the Rio Grande.” 

Estrella is quite sure from the tone of his voice that 
he hopes Hampton will be one of those doomed to 
death. 

But Jasper here startles both his companions by re- 
marking: “Jim, did you see that long-legged Ranger 
squinting at you for the last ten minutes you were fix- 
ing up the horse trade with Hays?” 

“Not Sharpe Hampton?” asks Godfrey, uneasily. 
And Estrella, exhibiting no surprise at his words, he 
glances at her, but she is too interested in Jasper’s com- 
munication to notice this. 

Moncton answers easily : “No, it wasn’t the Cap- 
tain ; I know him by sight. It was a slim, crazy-eyed 
fellow in buckskin, who looked at you as if you had 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


215 


made him a little more luny than usual. I was going 
to tell you about him, but didn’t like to interrupt when 
you were getting such a long price for the horses from 
the Texan Colonel. Some of the boys in the saloon 
called him Wild Harry !” 

“Wild Harry! Why, I — I thought he was with 
Hampton’s company down at Matamoras I” stammers 
Godfrey. His voice is husky. Despite the darkness, 
Estrella can see him sway in his seat. She is not sur- 
prised that under the plea of cinching up his saddle 
Godfrey lets her ride ahead while he and Jasper go 
into quite a long, muttered conversation. 

In it apparently Moncton learns something that im- 
presses him also ; when the two men overtake the young 
lady neither seems in such high spirits as before. 

This gives her suspicions greater strength. Miss 
Godfrey now makes up her mind not to mention her 
promise to Hampton. “Why should I sue — blushing, 
trembling and embarrassed — for a father’s blessing un- 
til I am sure he has a father’s authority and love?” 
she thinks cogently, and is quite relieved at postponing 
an ordeal that even in her sweetheart’s arms had made 
her cold with apprehension. 

So, taking it rather leisurely, after a long ride 
through the darkness they reach the hacienda of Live 
Oaks some time after midnight, to be ushered in by 
Zelma, who has supper on the table awaiting them. 

As Estrella avoiding Moncton’s attentions, hastily 
slips off her horse, she is no more the girl who yester- 
day had left this place drooping under a father’s en- 
treaties that it almost breaks her heart to deny, nor a 
bashful maiden, trembling at the wooing of a man she 
loathes ; but a woman determined to give herself to the 
man she loves, and to make sure the man assuming a 
father’s station to her has a parent’s authority over her 
before she asks his blessing. 


2i6 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Even as she dismounts Estrella shows how care- 
fully she has considered her position. If Godfrey has 
purloined the picture, her not mentioning her loss will 
make him suspicious. As soon as she is in the door- 
way of the house, and standing in the light, she says, 
her fragile hand playing nervously with her locket : 
“Papa’’ — the word comes very hard to her tongue 
now — “I hope you won’t be very angry at me, but in 
San Antonio I discovered I had lost the picture from 
my locket. It must have fallen out while I was gal- 
loping so recklessly into the town.” The languor and 
great exhaustion of the long ride make her eyes 
tranquil, but they are bright enough to notice that at 
mention of the locket a sudden anxiety has flown into 
both men’s faces, indicating that they have discussed 
the trinket. Her careless words apparently bring re- 
lief to them, for Moncton asks, nonchalantly : “What 
locket?” and Godfrey cries heartily: “Shucks, don’t 
bother about it. I’ll give you my picture to put in 
that fol-de-rol on your wedding day, daughter. Do 
the polite to her, Jasper, and tote your sweetheart in to 
supper !” 

Estrella, embarrassed at the words, has tact enough 
to refuse her suitor’s escort to the table on the 
ground of extreme fatigue, and to permit, though she 
winces under it, a paternal salute on her white fore- 
head from Godfrey. So, leaving the two gentlemen 
to smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey together, 
the girl goes wearily but hastily up to her chamber. 
Here, fortunately, the great joy of approaching nup- 
tials almost obliterates the miserable uncertainty of 
her position. But after a little, exhausted by her long, 
journey, nature claims its meed, rest comes to her, and, 
despite excitement, she has the blessing of a dreamless 
sleep. 

Awakening early in the forenoon, a sweetheart’s rap- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


217 


ture thrills her, and she whispers to herself, longingly : 
‘This evening Sharpe comes to tell papa.” Then, full 
recollection smiting her, she moans to herself : “How 
to discover, for I will discover ! I’ll ask no father’s 
blessing on my nuptials till I know !” 

Pondering on this, an unutterable horror crushes 
her ; she shudders : “If — if he is not my father, per- 
haps he killed my father!” but finally puts that idea 
away, Hampton’s report of the Rock Springs fight 
showing there was no need of murder to produce death 
in that dread affair. 

Forcing herself to calmness, the young lady goes 
downstairs and soon discovers things that add to her 
suspicion. To her relief, her father and Moncton have 
been long away on the business of getting the big bands 
of horses driven in from the prairie and the proper 
nags selected for delivery to the impatient Ranger 
Colonel. 

Miss Godfrey is waited on at breakfast by the octo- 
roon. Toward the end of the meal, chancing to men- 
tion the loss of her picture rather nonchalantly, as if it 
were but a matter of passing moment, Estrella is aston- 
ished to see her maid’s eyes grow apologetic and her 
manner greatly confused. “Come with me to my room, 
Zelnia,” the mistress says, assuming indifference as she 
places her coffee cup on the table, “and let us see if we 
cannot find that portrait together. It' possibly dropped 
out of the locket before I left for San Antonio.” 

As they go upstairs her attendant gives Miss God- 
frey a shock ; she says, with equal carelessness : “What 
makes you and your father both so brisk about that 
picture ?” 

Estrella for the moment is too startled to reply to 
this ; but in her room her suspicions become more vivid 
as she notes that her maid’s examination of her cham- 
ber is entirely perfunctory. Inspiration smiting the 


2i8 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


mistress, she suddenly cries : “Zelma, you know where 
that miniature is 

“Miss ’Strella, what — what makes you think that?” 
stammers the octoroon. 

“Why, because you’re not looking for it. If you’ve 
carelessly lost this portrait from the locket, confess it 
to me and I promise pardon.” 

But the girl, who is trembling now, not answering 
her, the mistress cannot help imploring: “It — it is a 
picture of my mother’s brother. I don’t want to lose 
it. Tell me about it. Have I not always been good 
to you, Zelma?” and so finally works upon the feel- 
ings of her attendant that she sobs miserably : “Don’t 
ask me. Miss ’Strella; don’t ask me! If I told you I’d 
be skinned alive I” 

“Ah, no doubt you would!” assents Estrella. She 
is now sure that her maid either took the portrait 
by Godfrey’s orders or had seen him purloin it 
and been warned to keep a silent tongue. She breaks 
out in anger, half simulated, half real : “You care- 
lessly have lost it. That’s the reason you dare not open 
your lips to me. But I shan’t tell my father about it 
because he’d punish you terribly. Though I shall pun- 
ish you myself.” She takes the young woman to the 
sewing room, gives her a big lot of sewing, and com- 
mands : “Don’t dare to stir from here until this is 
finished !” but to make very sure, locks the culprit in. 

Coming out of the room, she thinks : “Alone for 
hours!” With the exception of old Dinah, the cook, 
she and Zelma are the only inmates of the house. Di- 
nah never leaves the kitchen; it is quite certain that 
Moncton and Godfrey will not return till evening from 
the corrals. She thinks desperately : “I’ll search his 
room and get that picture.” 

Whereupon, safe from Zelma’s eyes, she goes cau- 
tiously into what she had once called her father’s bed- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


219 


room and investigates his wardrobe and his desk. 
This is a simple matter. The frontier planter’s clothes 
are few, and his plain deal desk has but a country lock, 
the key of which is in it. 

Carefully examining the pockets of his clothes, she 
finds nothing of importance in these ; next she inspects 
the papers in his desk, which are not very numerous, 
most of his business documents being at the house he 
calls his office, but does not find the portrait. Though 
looking over the last package of papers, tucked away 
in an envelope, something meets her eyes that makes 
Estrella utter a shriek of rage. It is the letter she had 
written to Hampton. 

This increases her determination to discover whether 
this man, who has assumed a father’s authority over 
her, is really entitled to her love, duty and obedience. 
She must know that ; she will know that ! She mur- 
murs to herself : “Oh, God, I loved him so !” But 
the letter in her hand makes her add bitterly: “He 
wasn’t very merciful to me.” Thinking of the picture, 
she cries to herself : “The face smiled at me from the 
past ! ’Twas a recollection of childhood. I can see 
the dear eyes now. I will see again that picture!” 
Yet search how she will, and she seeks it in careless, 
reckless eagerness, she cannot find the miniature. 
Finally, concluding that the portrait must have been 
destroyed, she desperately determines : ■ “There is one 
living witness who can say from his own eyes : This 
Jim Godfrey was Jim Godfrey before the fight at Rock 
Springs, and is — your father!’ I’ll send for Harry 
Love and bring them face to face !” 

She writes a hurried note, orders her mare saddled, 
and rides off to the cabin of a hunter a little way up 
the San Antonio trail, where for a few dollars she 
knows she can get a Mexican to speed with the mes- 
sage that very day into the Pueblo town. She is alto- 


220 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


i^ether too experienced now to trust the letter to an 
ox team. 

But even in the act of dismounting at the hunter’s 
cabin a sharp-eyed, brown-skinned muchacho comes 
spurring down the San Antonio trail, and, putting 
his cunning glance on her, promptly pulls up his mus- 
tang and, edging alongside of her, whispers : “Pron- 
to, dqui Dona Yankee T and passes to her astonished 
but eager hand a thumb-worn and dirty slip of paper. 

For a second she thinks it is some message from 
Hampton, but starts as she deciphers in half-printed, 
illiterate script : 

“IVe dropt on what nocked yer sensus out of ye. Yer 
guessed it ! Down ter night with ividence. Until then keep 
mum as ye love yer life. 

“Kute Harry/" 

As its full import smites her, the delicate girl almost 
falls from her horse. Her mighty suspicion has be- 
come a crushing and appalling certainty. She reels in 
her saddle, and mutters to herself : “Orphaned !” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

NIGHT ON THE LONE PLANTATION. 

Before Estrella can collect her senses, the Mexican 
boy, apparently instructed, with a whispered “GuardaD 
has ridden off. For a moment she is carried back into 
the past and sees the dying man by the desert spring, 
and her brown eyes grow full of tears at thought of 
her dead father. 

Then her cruel situation forces the present on her. 
She had given this man called Godfrey a daughter’s 
tender affection and loving kisses, and she feels a big 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


221 


hole is in her heart. Fortunately, Harry’s missive 
eradicates a good deal of this sentiment. 

As she re-reads Love’s scrawl the letters that are dim 
to her teary eyes grow very big in awful warning. 
“Keep mum as ye love yer life!” Until this time per- 
sonal danger had not been in the girl’s mind, but now 
it looms up and confronts her. She looks on the great 
estate this man has usurped from her, and thinks in 
quick discernment : “After he has slaved for it these 
many years, this man will do anything to keep it. That 
is why he wanted me to marry Moncton ; then he’d be 
safe from me.” Pondering over the matter, she makes 
a wild guess that Jasper had discovered her putative 
father’s secret, and so had gained sufficient power over 
him to force him to divide the spoils. “This man had 
to take me as his daughter to be Jim Godfrey and have 
title to my dead father’s gold that he dug up from the 
ruined hacienda, and these miles and miles of land fer- 
tile as God’s gardens,” she mutters; then jeers bitterly ; 
“And now he would make me the bride of his accom- 
plice, and so render me forever helpless and seal my 
lips eternally by wifely pride and wifely duty.” 

She gazes at the herds of cattle and bands of horses 
and gangs of toiling negroes, and utters, significantly : 
“It is a principality worth fighting for. For all this is 
mine and” — the sweet accents of devoted love com- 
ing into her voice — “and Sharpe’s !” 

From this reverie she is startled by a voice at her 
side. The man whom she had called father, riding up 
to her, says, authoritatively: “Daughter, I saw you 
from the field. You got a note from that Mexican 
boy.” Her agitated face answers him ; he commands : 
“Let me see it !” 

But under an instinctive touch of the spur the agile 
Mulefoot bounds away, and before Estrella is overtaken 
by her surprised mentor she has wrapped the paper up 


222 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


with three lucifer matches, that after the manner of 
the prairie she carries with her, and has ignited them 
on the pommel of her saddle. With her pursuer’s 
hand upon her arm, she laughs as the tinder floats away 
from her on the breeze, and feels for the moment that 
she is safe. 

Fortunately, Godfrey takes for granted from whom 
the note has been received, and commands tersely : 
‘‘You come right home with me!” 

Resistance would be useless, even if she cared just 
now to defy him. Miss Godfrey turns Mulefoot and 
rides doggedly beside him, and so enters the big 
patio, where, slipping from the side saddle, she stands 
upon the threshold of the house confronting him. 

Godfrey doesn’t get off his horse or the crisis might 
have come immediately. Still mounted, looking down 
at the girl as she makes a beautiful picture in her riding 
habit, her face flushed, her eyes rebellious, he says, 
sternly : “Ever since last night, daughter. I’ve noticed 
you’ve acted kind of queer then questions sharply : 
“You have met against my orders Captain Hampton in 
San Antonio?” 

She turns her face haughtily to his and answers 
shortly: “Yes.” 

“Very well. You remember I told you Fd punish 
you if you ever had anything more to do with him. 
If you have lost your pride, by the Eternal, I haven’t 
lost my pride as your father !” 

Despite herself, the young lady cannot restrain a 
mocking, sneering laugh. It doesn’t make her mentor 
more tender to her. He continues : “Now you go 
right up to your room and stay there till I let you leave 
it. I’m too busy now, but to-morrow, unless you do 
what I tell you, I’ll tend to you frontier fashion.” 

But yesterday the girl would have been grieved at his 
condemnation and grown tearful at his reproof. Now 



NIGHT ON THE LONE PLANTATION 


4 


I 




« 


I 


• } 

» t 




( 



I 


f • 



( 





. '■ • . 

♦ 

% 

.> r 

4 


% 






THE SPY COMPANY. 


223 


his threat eradicates her last tender feeling for him; 
with every vein in her body throbbing with indigna- 
tion at his assumed parental authority, she bites her 
lips to restrain the angry, defiant words. 

A moment after she answers haughtily, yet resigned- 
ly : “Yes, sir !“ and goes up to her chamber quite con- 
tent to get from his company, for she sees enough in 
his face to make it certain that a rash word might now 
put great danger upon her. Recollecting that to-night 
she will have Wild Harry’s evidence to make her defy 
any interference by this man with her coming marriage, 
she laughs to herself savagely : “It is he who shall 
beg my mercy; not I, his!” and strides her room like 
an indignant Juno. 

Soon tenderer and happier thoughts possess her. 
She remembers that this evening she will have at her 
side a man capable of protecting her from everything 
save the violence of her own love, and reflecting that 
in two days she is to be a bride, occupies herself pleas- 
antly by packing a trunk for a simple honeymoon out- 
ing. 

During this, towards evening, she is somewhat star- 
tled by hearing the man called Godfrey crying out from 
his bedroom, rather nervously and astoundedly : 
per, the devil’s up ! Someone’s been searching all my 
things 1” His hurried steps tell of agitation as he runs 
down the stairs apparently to seek conference with his 
coadjutor. 

A little later, probably urged by Moncton, who 
wishes to see the woman whose beauty grows to him 
more tempting with her coldness, Godfrey sends Zel- 
ma to the young lady’s chamber and desires she shall 
be at the supper table. “And master told me,” pleads 
the maid, anxiously, “to make you look your best. Miss 
’Strella.” 

“Make me look my best ! Well, I should think so!” 


224 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


cries Estrella. And, remembering she is being decked 
to meet her affianced husband, she selects for this sum- 
mer evening an exquisite light frock of pure white mus- 
lin trimmed with simple ribbons. 

Filled with sweetheart’s bashful thoughts, under the 
octoroon’s anxious attentions, the tears, and she has 
shed many of them this day, are washed from her 
cheeks, and she soon becomes as fresh and dainty as 
a rosebud. On her face is expectant happiness and 
hope as she sweeps down to astonish with her beauty 
the two men waiting for her below, and take her place 
at what she had once been very happy to call her 
father’s table. 

Then a curious, nervous meal goes on. 

Though the conversation of Moncton and Godfrey 
is chiefly over coming crops and the horses they have 
sent off to San Antonio for the Ranger Colonel, there 
is a current of uneasiness apparent in their voices, and 
Estrella starts as she notes in the faces of these men 
some project not as yet developed. This nervous tension 
quickly affects the octoroon, who, dressed like a prim 
French maid, is waiting on them. Zelma’s pearl-like 
complexion becomes pale as delicate china, and her 
plump white arms bared to the elbows for table at- 
tendance quiver as she arranges the dessert ; for God- 
frey, after remarking that some one has been sneak- 
ing about his bedroom, suddenly asks the attendant in 
terrible voice : “Wench, have you been rummaging 
my desk trying to find something to steal?” next 
chuckles: “By jinks, you look guilty; your legs are 
shaking under you as if you had the fever and ague!” 
the short skirt of the young woman making this easily 
apparent. 

With her tongue almost cleaving to the roof of 
her mouth, Zelma answers in low, broken voice : “No, 
Mr. Godfrey, as God is my judge !’^ 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


225 


“Reckon you’ll find I’m the only judge about here!” 
jeers the old man, blasphemously. Apparently he has 
been bracing his nerves for some active measure by 
afternoon libations. 

But the attentions of Jasper Moncton, who, towards 
the close of the meal has drawn his chair quite close 
to Miss Godfrey’s, the confident smile upon his suave 
face and the possessive manner in which he would put 
his arm around her tempting waist, though she repels 
him both with eyes and hands, do not permit Estrella 
to think very much about this matter. Her diffidence 
and coyness now seemingly annoy the man who calls 
himself her father. In his eye comes a determination to 
force this fragile beauty, who had once been so pliable 
in her daughterly love, to do his will. 

As he smokes he speaks, saying rather nervously 
between puffs of his cigar : “Jasper has been begging 
you off again, ’Strella ; I have concluded to forget your 
disobedience if you do my bidding, daughter.” 

“And what is that ?” asks the young lady, struggling 
to control her temper. 

“Why, you just agree to marry Jasper, as you know 
are my wishes, and I’ll excuse you just this once for 
running after that Ranger Captain.” 

“That I shall never do I” answers Estrella, and, rising 
haughtily, sweeps out of the room and goes to her 
chamber, because she is afraid of letting her tongue 
disclose too much. 

Here she thinks pertinently : “An hour or two more 
and Hampton will come, and then — ^then I’ll speak I” 

But this inaction is not to be permitted to her. A 
few minutes after Zelma comes trembling into her 
chamber and shudders : “Eor God’s sake. Miss ’Strel- 
la, protect me. You said you would — when I came 
here and gave up my liberty to be with you, you said 
you would.” 


226 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“What do you mean ?” 

“Oh, this. They’re accusing me of breaking open 
and searching master’s desk to find something to steal. 
God help me, they’ve — they’ve been drinking!” and 
even in the gloom the octoroon’s eyes flash -wild with 
terror. “They have told me that — that I am to go 
down to master’s office to be whipped. Miss ’Strella, 
think of that — whipped because I’ve been rummaging 
master’s desk trying to find something to steal I” 

“That you shall never be I” Miss Godfrey’s voice is 
cold, though her heart is throbbing as if it would break 
through the corsage that confines it. She knows now 
that to save the unfortunate Zelma she must tell of in- 
vestigating Godfrey’s desk. To give the real reason 
for her act, instinct warns her may put danger even 
on her life. She tries to invent some other plausible 
excuse or motive to render to this man, muttering ner- 
vously to herself: “If Hampton would but come!” 

But she must act quickly ! Godfrey has called from 
below: “Come along, you thieving wench; I’ll teach 
you to sneak about my papers !” and Zelma has trem- 
blingly run down to him. Some remarks about “go- 
ing light on the girl and not spoiling her beauty for the 
New Orleans market” float up the stairway, to horrify 
Miss Godfrey. 

As the sobs of the victim die away the mistress cries 
mentally : “Zelma shall not be punished for my act !” 
Taking a piece of paper, she hastily writes on it : 
“Find me at the office.” With this in her hand she 
runs downstairs and leaves it on the dining-room table 
for Hampton’s eye in case he should come during her 
absence. 

Then, reckless of everything but her errand of mercy, 
Miss Godfrey issues from the house and follows the 
two men, who have already led their victim out of the 
big patio and are well on their way down the road to 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


227 


Godfrey’s office. She has forgotten coming sweet- 
heart; obliterated from mind is Harry’s promised evi- 
dence ; likewise is even banished the danger that she 
may bring upon herself, if by any inadvertence she dis- 
closes that she knows she is not this man’s daughter, 
as picking up her dainty skirts Estrella flits with light 
feet through the road made dusty by wagon teams from 
Matagorda and stands before the rough one-story 
adobe building called Godfrey’s office. She has scarce- 
ly ever been in the place, having had a kind of horror 
of it, because she knows that sometimes slaves con- 
nected with household or stables are punished in its 
rear room, the regular whipping post of the plantation 
being down among the distant negro quarters. 

Its floor being raised but little over the surrounding 
prairie, the windows of the building are scarce two 
feet above the path outside. The night being warm, 
these are wide open, and she glances into the front 
room. 

At one side of it is a small iron safe for papers con- 
nected with the plantation. Several ledgers and a 
well-thumbed memorandum book lie on its unplaned 
deal table ; from this a couple of candles in tin candle- 
sticks emit a subdued, flickering light. Both Godfrey 
and Moncton are seated on rough, wooden chairs in 
careless poses, the evening being very sultry, smok- 
ing their cigars nonchalantly, and comfortably drinking 
their whiskey from a bottle and glasses already placed 
upon the table. 

Estrella shudders as she sees these men coolly taking 
their ease, unmindful of the trembling woman, who 
apparently is in the rear room preparing for her tor- 
ture ; for a subdued sobbing is heard through the slight 
partition mingled with the rustle of feminine garments 
being hastily removed. Though she is so excited that 
the whole scene seems blurred to her, her senses are 


228 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


SO strained she even notes the odor of a honeysuckle 
that is climbing about the window and that a swarm of 
mosquitoes and insects attracted from the prairie are 
burning themselves to death in the flames of the can- 
dles on the table. 

But, above all, one thing impresses itself upon the 
delicate girl, the awful loneliness of the place. The 
lights from the negro quarters are very distant. The 
nearest cabin of a frontiersman or hunter is a mile 
away. Only the gloom of a summer night is near to 
her. She shudders as she thinks : “What aid is there 
for me from any one here against the acknowledged 
autocrat of this lone plantation and his overseer?” 
Love’s warning grows very vivid in her mind as to 
her ears come these significant words in Moncton’s 
acute voice : “Did you notice, Jim, that ’Strella has 
never once called you dad since we came from San 
Antonio ?” 

“Yes, and by the Lord Harry I’m going to find out 
what she means by it !” snarls Godfrey. 

Here the sight of a long, lithe, torturing rawhide 
switch lying on the table makes Estrella desperately 
lay her hand upon the latch. 

As the girl comes in, it is as if a fairy were entering 
the den of ogres, for the whole place smells of liquor 
and has that rough, unkempt, bald appearance common 
to the frontier far from the refining touch of woman. 

As they see her the triumph upon both men’s faces 
tells their visitor that her coming is what they want; 
though the man whom she once called father, hastily 
rising, asks: “Daughter, what’s your business here?” 

“To protect the girl I brought with me from New 
York,” she answers, determinedly. “You shall not 
punish Zelma!” 

“Reckon a little’ll do her good,” says Godfrey. “She 
deserves it. The wench has been rummaging about 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


229 


my desk trying to find something to steal ; unless/’ he 
adds, significantly, “some one else did it.” 

This increases Estrella’s perturbation. She guesses 
that they suspect she has been investigating Godfrey’s 
desk, and have lured her here on this errand of mercy 
to coerce her by her sympathy with the unfortunate 
octoroon into confessing her act and telling her reason 
for it. 

With a shudder she remembers Harry’s warning: 
“As ye love yer life keep mum !” and, loving life very 
much now, as coming brides do, for one coward mo- 
ment she hesitates. 

But Godfrey’s action forces her to generous reso- 
lution. Picking up the torturing switch of twisted 
rawhide, he calls, savagely : “Wench, are you ready 
in there ?” and a scream has answered through the par- 
tition : “Master, for God’s sake, spare me !” 

He is stepping to the door, but Miss Godfrey is in 
front of him. To him she says, holding up a white 
hand in commanding gesture : “You shall not torture 
Zelma! It was I who investigated your desk!” 

At this Moncton springs up with a muttered execra- 
tion, and the faces of both men tell Estrella that they 
fear she guesses some secret they will protect with 
their lives or — with her life. But it only braces her 
nerves and makes her throbbing brain more acute. 

“You were going through my desk,” mutters God- 
frey, hoarsely, “to find what?” Though he tries to 
conceal it, his face is convulsed with both terror and 
menace. 

Moncton himself has come a little closer to her, his 
features full of awful inquiry. 

“To find what?” repeats the man she had once 
thought her father. 

“This!” cries the girl in sudden inspiration, and, 
plunging her hand through the laces of her corsage, 


230 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


she draws from her throbbing bosom the note she had 
found. “This, my letter that you intercepted ; my mis- 
sive to Captain Hampton 

At her words immense relief ripples the faces of both 
her inquisitors. 

“Oh, Hampton, the Comanche killer !” sneers Monc- 
ton, his attitude growing more easy, though his face is 
flushed with jealous rage. 

“Of course I did,” says Godfrey in fatherly tones. 
“It was my duty to keep you from making a lovesick 
fool of yourself, daughter.” He gives a sigh of relief, 
sits down in a chair and relights his cigar. 

Perhaps the awful denouement that is drawing 
about them might be averted, for Estrella has called 
into the door of the rear room : “Zelma, you’re saved. 
Go back to the house, poor g^rl !” and is herself step- 
ping to the entrance of the building, anxious to get 
away from the two men whom she now loathes; but 
at this moment Moncton, made fervid by the ethereal 
beauty of this priestess of mercy, who looks in her 
simple muslin frock exquisite as a sylph, bars her 
way, and says, insinuatingly : “You’ve begged 
the wench off from your father. Now you’ll have to 
beg her off from me. You see there was a fellow 
named Him Jones came up to Matagorda from Corpus 
Christi, and he didn’t know I was boss of this estate, 
and got to laughing and chatting in a barroom about 
your octoroon beauty who was going to gallivant with 
Mr. Yazoo Sam. You see, in old times I knew Yazoo 
Sam very well, and he was great at running off nig- 
gers. We ” Jasper checks himself and continues 

smilingly : “But perhaps you didn’t notice your 

wench’s didos. Reckon you were too much taken up 
with that dragoon fellow, young Pelham, I believe his 
name was. Him Jones was talking about him, too,” 
and, getting closer to the lovely object of his passion, 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


231 


whispers : “You can save the wench by a single kiss. 
You know how I have loved you since I saw you at 
Saratoga. Why don’t you marry me and make every- 
thing quiet and settled on the plantation ?” 

“Yes, that’s the ticket,” breaks in Godfrey. “Marry 
Jasper. You know he’s the man I want you to take. 
Don’t keep on your high horse!” 

To this Miss Godfrey, lighting to restrain words that 
may bring discovery upon her, says, coldly: “I have 
already answered no to that question.” 

“Oh, you won’t give me a kiss? Very well,” laughs 
Moncton. “Then Zelma shall sing a little song to Mr. 
Yazoo Sam !” and would step towards the inner room. 

But Miss Godfrey stands before him and commands : 
“I forbid you to lay a hand upon my property I” 

''Your property! That’s good!” jeers Jasper, arro- 
gantly. “Reckon you don’t exactly understand your 
position here !” 

At this Godfrey falters : “Don’t rile him, daughter, 
or he’ll turn us out paupers on the prairie. Marry 
him to save your poor old father. Don’t you know 
he’s got a bill of sale of everything on the plantation ? 
Don’t put on city airs, child, you’re only the daughter 
of a plain backwoodsman, anyway!” 

But this man’s continually calling himself her father 
drives the girl frantic. Forgetting prudence, she cries, 
mockingly: “A bill of sale of my plantation from 

you? Pish, it’s not worth the paper it’s written on!” 

“What do you mean ?” This in a whisper from both 
men. 

“I mean that you are not Jim Godfrey, that you are 
not my father!” And the daughter of a plain back- 
woodsman becomes haughty as a Juno, the lights of the 
candles flash on her white arms and panting bosom, 
the thought that she had given this wretch a daugh- 
ter’s kisses, a daughter’s love, makes her toss prudence 


232 


THE SFY COMPANY. 


to the winds and break out: '‘Interloper! Liar! 
Usurper! My father died at the Rock Springs fight 
ten years ago! Now both you and your accomplice 
off this plantation, that is mine !” 

Even as this leaves her lips she remembers Love’s 
warning, and would check her words, but the actions 
of the men before her tell her it is too late. For God- 
frey has muttered with an awful curse : “By Heaven, 
she knows!” and Moncton has locked the door lead- 
ing to the outer world. 

She is alone with two monsters, who shock her by 
holding whispered consultation, all the time keeping 
their eyes upon her as if they were beasts of prey and 
she was to be their victim. She hears one mutter: 
“You fool, to make me bring her from New York!” 
and the other answer: “By Heaven, I’ll have her, 
anyway!” From very force of habit Estrella’s hands- 
go to the silken sash that girds her- slight waist seeking 
for the Ranger’s pistols, but with a sigh she remem- 
bers she has left the weapons in her chamber. 

Then the two men come to her and smite her 
with a monstrous proposition. “Now, Jim, to save her 
life she must marry me right off !” says Moncton, 
shortly. 

“Yes, marriage with you is the only thing that will 
stop hei lips sure,” mutters Godfrey; adding, in cruel 
significance: “except the other thing.” 

Here the girl in her terror, for she sees they mean 
by “the other thing” her death, makes a false step. 
Hoping to frighten them, she says, haughtily : “That’s 
impossible ! To-morrow I marry Sharpe Hampton !” 

At this the two men look at each other wildly. They 
know that if she has promised herself to Hampton 
neither man nor devil will keep the Ranger from com- 
ing bride. Driven desperate, Godfrey remarks, husk- 
ily: “So much the more reason you marry Jasper 
nowT 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


233 


“Yes, mating with me is the trick that will stop her 
gabbing !“ cries Moncton, adding, with saturnine acute- 
ness, “and stop Sharpe Hampton, too!” 

“Stop Sharpe Hampton from making me his wife 
when he loves me?” jeers Estrella. “Stop him when 
he says I am his sun in heaven? Stop him ” 

But Moncton’s crafty rejoinder paralyzes her white 
lips. '‘You can stop him mighty quick!” he says, 
suavely. “When, you’re bone of my bone and flesh of 
my flesh, the Ranger Captain’s too high-stomached a 
fellow to take such a jilting. He’ll keep away from 
you as if you were poison and ask no questions.” To 
this he adds in words that seem like blows upon the 
threatened one’s heart : “You have got to marry me 
or be buried before morning !” 

“Don’t you see, fool, that it is the only thing that 
can save your life ?” whispers the man called Godfrey. 
“We daren’t let you live. Do you suppose that I’m 
going to be thrown out of wealth and possessions that 
have grown in my hands all these years and be twisted 
from a nabob into an outcast pauper in a second ?” 

“I’ll — I’ll deed you my property !” screams the fright- 
ened girl, “only let me go !” 

“Shucks, a deed under these circumstances wouldn’t 
be worth a cent!” says Moncton. “Besides, I want 
you! I haven’t dreamt of your loveliness and hun- 
gered for your caresses these two years to give ’em 
up now ! You’ve got to give in, my beauty, and be- 
come my wife right off !” 

Then the room grows red with horror to the victim’s 
eyes as Godfrey says, huskily, as if ashamed of his 
own words: “There’s a nigger parson down at the 
quarters can do the business good enough in five min- 
utes. Your being Jasper’s flesh and blood will keep 
your lips shut forever. You have got to be Jasper’s 
right now or die right here!” 


234 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


For a second the horror of her position is hardly 
real to the half fainting girl, but the proposed bride- 
groom’s eyes lighting up in unholy rapture at the 
loveliness he thinks already in his arms, makes Estrella 
a goddess of purity assailed by shame. 

Her face, cheeks and bosom grow red as fire, then 
pale as the death that she elects. She says simply : 
“You can kill me, but I live Sharpe Hampton’s !” next 
raises her voice and cries desperately: “Help! 
Hampton, help ! I need you I” 

“Quit screaming or we’ve got to kill you !” mutters 
Godfrey. Already he has one hand upon her white 
throat and seems to be raising the other to strike her 
senseless. 

Again the sweet young voice rings through the still 
night air : “Hampton ! Sharpe ! Save me !” 

Then, even as her senses become dull and the scene 
sways mistily before her eyes, the angel of death de- 
scends and protects this maiden from two satyrs. 

On the trail outside two sharp revolver cracks ring 
out so rapidly they make almost one report. The man 
who had called himself Miss Godfrey’s father falls 
upon the swooning girl, and the other, his accomplice, 
is a dead body ere he reaches the bloody floor. 

>lt j 1« Jk * 5}: * * 

A few minutes later Estrella finds herself lying 
in a chair, her face wet and herself being brought to 
her senses by kindly slappings of her hands and shoul- 
ders. She says, dreamily, though there is a strange 
interrogation in her voice : “Did you put me in this 
chair ?” 

“No, I found ye there,” answers Mr. Love, aston- 
ished admiration making his wild eyes very big. 

But she, staring about and seeing blood upon her 
dress and the bodies lying on the floor, springs up and 
shudders : “Who killed these men ?” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


235 


“Shucks, don’t git frightened, girl, after ye’ve fit 
the scrimmage,” says Wild Harry, reassuringly. “Yer 
did it fine. That feller over there was plugged straight 
between the eyes,” he points to Moncton, “and this 
cadoodler ain’t got many breaths in his body.” He 
indicates her putative father. “Don’t take on so; they 
desarved it. Reckon ‘dad’ got onto yer knowing he 
wasn’t ‘dad’ a leetle before I got down, and then yer 
gave it to ’em straight. Hampton taught yer to shoot 
the pistol, didn’t he? I’d have done it myself if I’d 
have been here.” 

At this Estrella asks in astounded voice : “And you 
didn’t shoot them ?” 

“No such luck,” answers Love ; then mutters : 
“What do yer want to possum it on me fer? Ye must 
have shot ’em ! But I’ll make everything safe for ye. 
A coroner’s jury’ll soon bring in a verdict of ‘served 
’em right’ when I’m yer witness.” 

These last words are interrupted by a moaning plea 
for water from the man called Godfrey. 

Estrella cannot forget that she once held daughter’s 
love for this man, and her quick hands pour the liquid 
between his ashen lips and try to soothe the passing 
of his spirit. 

On this Love breaks in, saying, sternly : “Roger 
Norton, the best thing you can do with your last few 
breathin’s is to square yourself by telling all about it.” 

“Roger Norton! Is that your name?” cries ’Strella, 
and looks curiously at the dying man. 

“I recognized ye as soon as I put eyes on ye, Roger 
Norton,” says Wild Harry, “Ye were her dad’s clerk 
who went up with him on his hunt for the Gran Que- 
vira, and thus escaped massacre down here. Ye 
thought ye’d take Jim Godfrey’s place, seein’ every one 
was dead, and so to seize on the plantation ye lassed 
the daughter. That’s about straight, isn’t it?” 


236 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Yes,” gasps the man, “there — there isn’t much to 
tell.” 

“But still,” commands Love, “ye put it down on 
paper, Strella; writin’ always makes things easy.” 

And the girl, sitting at the deal table, inscribes hur- 
riedly the tale the wounded man in low voice gasps 
out : 

“I — I saw a big chance with everybody dead who 
knew Godfrey in these parts, and I — I took it. I be- 
came Jim Godfrey. ’Twasn’t so hard for six years. 
No one ever came round this place but new emigrants, 
new niggers and Indians and Mexicanos. I — I meant 
to do the right thing by you, and would have left you 
the property till that devil, Jasper Carew Moncton, 
came along. He had not known Godfrey, but he 
thought he recollected me in old Mississippi days. He 
suspected me. Somehow he was aware Jim Godfrey 
was a Knight of the Golden Circle. He gave me the 
grips and signals of the secret order. I could not re- 
turn them. So he finally made sure that I was not Jim 
Godfrey, but Roger Norton that he had once seen as 
purser’s clerk on the Mississippi River. Then he — he 
worked on my fears and got a hold on me, and — and 
then, when he’d gone up North and seen you, ’Strella, 
he got wild for you and would have me bring you down 
so that he could, if necessary, force you to be his, and 
— and you know the rest. I meant to be pretty good 
to you, and I hope you’ll forgive me as — as far as you 
can.” The poor creature, sighing his life out, looks 
pleadingly at her. 

But the girl suddenly asks: “Tell me, who killed 
vou ?” 

“I— I don’t know.” 

Then she, bringing the paper to him, half sobs, half 
gasps; “Sign this, and I’ll forgive you,” and the 
frontiersman, lifting the expiring wretch higher, he 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


m 


succeeds in putting his name beneath his dying revela- 
tion ; then his head drops, as he falls forward on the 
floor. 

“And now,” says Estrella, eagerly, “please let me 
write that you were killed while making an attack upon 

me, that ” She pauses. The eyes of the man who 

had called himself Godfrey are closed, his breath has 
gone. 

“What’s all this strange palaver about?” mutters 
Love. “Nobody’s going to hurt ye for killing them 
skunks !” 

“No, but I didn’t kill them.” 

“Well, who did? It warn’t me, though I’d been 
proud to do it.” 

“I — I think it was Sharpe,” whispers the girl, ner- 
vously. 

“ ’Tain’t possible!” cries Love, indignantly, “or this 
fellow Moncton would have been dead as quick as the 
other. Sharpe Hampton don’t shoot twice at a man.” 

“But I might have been in the way. I stood so ” 

“Yes — reckon he’d have to shoot a leetle high to 
avoid ye. Perhaps it was Sharpe Hampton.” 

“But Zelma can tell!” And Estrella runs into the 
next room. Putting her hand on the shoulder of the 
shrinking octoroon. Miss Godfrey asks : “Zelma, who 
fired those shots?” 

“I don’t know, miss; I don’t know,” mumbles the 
poor cringing creature who is still half nude in prepa- 
ration for her chastisement. “I was waiting here when 
I heard their awful words to you, then the reports. 
Next I heard some one in that room kissing you and, 
seems to me, I distinguished : ‘For God’s sake, I 
didn’t mean to kill your father!’ But those fearful 
men are dead, and I’m only your slave — ain’t I, Miss 
Strella, only your slave?” 

This her mistress does not answer. She has run 


238 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


out into the other room, where Harry is calling: 
“Look here ! Here’s a piece of paper kept in place by 
a bowie knife stuck in it, and we never see’d it. We’d 
make fine spies, we would !” 

Upon it has been agitatedly scrawled : “Good-bye. 
Forgive me.” 

“That’s Sharpe’s writin’, straight enough!” mutters 
Wild Harry, “but I never knew his hand could trem- 
ble before.” 

“It is my first, my last love letter!” screams Estrella, 
and seizes it, kisses it and fondles it. 

Then Harry mutters : “Wall, I’m darned if this 
don’t beat conniption fits !” 

For the girl is crying to him : “Get on your horse! 
After him ! Sharpe Hampton thinks he’s killed my 
father, and that this wretch’s blood stands between his 
love and me. After him ! Bring him back to me ! I 
promised to marry him to-morrow. After him ! Find 
him before he gets down on the Rio Grande and throws 
his life away in some wild skirmish because he thinks 
he’s killed my father and can never call me wife! 
After him, and bring him back!” 


BOOK V. 


Beyond the Rio Grande. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

FLORITO'S FANDANGO. 

It is a hot, sultry summer night well south of the 
Rio Grande, on the most southern of all roads leading 
from Camargo, first over low cactus-covered chaparral 
plains called the Tierra Caliente, then through the 
foothills of the Cordilleras to Monterey and Saltillo. 
This road, passing by the little adobe town of China, 
avoided by the main divisions of Taylor’s Army, has 
not been cut up by trains of wagons transporting 
provisions and camp equipage or guns of the artillery, 
though it has been scouted over and ridden over by 
Texan Rangers and Dragoons, who have cleared it of 
the Rancheros and the regular Mexican cavalry of 
General Ampudia, who holds in force the« town and 
citadel of Monterey. 

Upon this road, grown dusty under the hoofs of cav- 
alry, stands a little hamlet near the first foothills of the 
mountains, pleasantly shaded by some palmettos, palms 
and century plants that indicate it is still near the 
Tierra Caliente, though it is watered by a stream 
whose swiftly flowing, cool water as it hurries to join 
the San Juan River shows that it rises in the heights 
of the Sierra Madre. 

Within this hamlet this sultry night, though the 
(239) 


^40 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


breeze from the mountain tempers it, for the benefit 
and amusement of the ferocious Yankee voluntarios 
is being given a fandango. The Mexican mosos and 
leperos, cringingly doffing their sombreros, have gath- 
ered in the prettiest p obi anas and manolas of the town, 
though they grind their yellow teeth and snarl- 
ingly feel their machetes when out of immediate ob- 
servation. For the bright eyes of the senoritas flash 
alluringly to the wooing of these Yankee desperadoes, 
who are very ardent in their “lovings” to Juanita, In- 
ezita or Lolita, now that Sally, Molly and Annie are 
“to hum” in far-away Kentucky or Tennessee, and 
who practise the good old-fashioned soldier routine : 

“If you cannot make love to the lips that are dear, 

At least you can kiss the lips that are near.” 

Under live oaks lighted by torches, the salle de danse 
being a smooth, well-beaten circle of earth surrounded 
by tables for gaming and likewise the sale of tortillas, 
frijoles, dtdces and aguardiente, pulque, and other 
liquids of the country, a merry crowd of Texan 
Rangers and Uncle Sam’s troopers are engaged in lov- 
ing, polkaing, smoking, drinking and gambling. These 
are interspersed with Mexicans who smile between their 
snarls, and senoritas whose white chemises scarcely veil 
their charms of busts and shoulders, and whose short, 
bright-colored petticoats do not entirely conceal their 
graceful legs and ankles. Under the feet of everybody 
roam a drove of hairless Mexican dogs, struggling to 
get a snap at tortillas and frijoles, yet snarling, yelp- 
ing and howling under the kicks from the big boots 
of Rangers and troopers. 

In addition, a banner announces “Florito’s Troupe 
of Artists from the Nuave de Teatro, City of Mex- 
ico.” These add to the entertainment a one-legged 
clown, whose performance of a maimed athlete seems 
to amuse the careless crowd, and a boy whose hand- 


fHfi SPY company. 


241 


springs and flip-flaps are more those of an orang- 
outang than a human being. 

But after a little the stellar artiste of the com- 
pany, coming out with languishing eyes and coquettish 
songs, sends the concourse wild with the ever popular 
“La Ponchada/' Then changing from song to dance, 
she is greeted by some wild ''Vayas!” and ''Buenos!” 
from the Mexicans, and cries of “Keep it up !” “Go it 
heel and toe!’' and “Fling yer shanks lively!” from 
los Yankees. 

These are acknowledged by “Bully for Uncle Sam’s 
voluntarios !” from the archly naive figurante, who with 
flashing eyes, flowing hair and waving of rebozo, 
throws her agile limbs very gracefully to the music of 
guitar and mandolin, clanking her castanets in cachucha 
and tapping her tambourine in bolero. 

But her cachucha and bolero being finished, the 
sylph goes about laughing and chatting and even drink- 
ing glasses of wine with the assemblage, holding out 
tambourine for reward, though her attentions are 
chiefly directed to the boys of Uncle Sam; to whom, 
being more liberal than her compatriots, she says, 
archly: "Pesos por me! Nothing less than a dollar 
goes! Sabe! Big silver dollars! Ah, you handsome 
Gringos diablosT 

Coming out of the crowd with her tambourine packed 
full of money and jingling it merrily about, under a 
torch-lighted oak, she pauses, starts as if a snake had 
stung her pretty bare legs, and mutters : “Caramba, 
you here !” and faces the drooping and beautiful figure 
and sad, earnest face of Estrella Godfrey. 

“I have been watching for you,” says the American 
girl, and would put gold into the dancing girl’s tam- 
bourine, remarking, eagerly : “Carmelita, you remem- 
ber how you saved him and me on the prairie. Have 
you seen him?” 


242 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Him? Caspita, you mean the gallant Captain!” 
cries the dancing girl; then shudders: “From you; 
never!” With a shame-faced gesture she rejects 
haughtily the proffered guerdon. 

But a lithe little Mexican, just behind her, cries: 
“Caramha, jealous idiot, you refuse gold!” and seizes 
the half-eagle from Miss Godfrey’s fingers. “Florito 
is not so dainty !” then snarls : “Demonios, you’re 
dropping all the money out of the tambourine !” With 
this her patron takes the instrument from the listless 
fingers of his subject, who is staring agitatedly at Miss 
Godfrey. 

Then takes place a curious, half-incoherent interview 
broken in upon and interspersed with the chinking 
of money and the cries of gamblers from the neighbor- 
ing tables and the thumbing of mandolins, guitars and 
the shrieking of a fiddle from the Mexican musicians ; 
the two girls making exquisite contrast in the torch- 
light that is now mellowed by the moon rising over 
the spurs of the Sierra Madre. Carmelita, in snowy 
chemisette and red-tinted skirt carelessly worn Mex- 
ican fashion in half-savage nudity, is a picture of bar- 
baric passion; Estrella Godfrey, clothed for her jour- 
ney in the saddle over Mexican trails in the Indian 
costume she had worn on the prairie, might be bar- 
barous also, such are her flashing eyes and agitated 
gestures, did not a pathetic sadness dominate and make 
soft her wildest emotions. 

“You have been riding? You have got that wild- 
eyed Ranger Harry with you!” whispers Carmelita. 
“I saw you come in this evening escorted by that troop 
of Yankee cavalry. As I thought, you seek il Capitan 
Hampton” Then her eyes blaze and she mutters: 
“But you. Dona Americana, shall not find him — not 
through Carmelita.” 

“I must, or he’ll be dead soon !” sighs Estrella. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


243 


“They tell me such stories of his careless, reckless ex- 
posure in every skirmish and fight he can get into.” 

‘‘JesuSf he is brave, isn’t he? Resigned from the 
Texan Rangers — Madre de Dios, as if they didn’t get 
killed enough — and organized the Spy Company, free 
to find death in the Mexican lines, men who don’t want 
to come back ; his first lieutenant an English lord who 
was shooting buffalo on the plains and learned his 
wife had run away with a duke ; his second officer, the 
little daredevil they call ‘The Bravo,’ the pet of a 
Louisiana plantation until his sweetheart was seduced 
by a New York gambler; then he killed the gambler, 
and has come down here to get himself killed ; a dear 
little boy who smokes cigarettes while bullets fly about 
him, and each night dreams of home and mutters: 
‘Mother.’ The rest of them, frontiersmen whose wives 
and daughters have been carried off by Indians; bor- 
derers whose families and sweethearts have been 
slaughtered by rancheros ; each a despairing man who 
wants to die but sell his life, and all driven to despair 
by our sex. Dona Americana.” 

At this dread description of her sweetheart’s com- 
mand Estrella Godfrey’s eyes grow agonized. She 
cries : “You have seen him fight ?” 

“Seen him fight?” cries Carmelita. ‘'Diablo, how 
these despairing men massacred the lancers of Carrabi- 
jol! Ha, ha, ha! It is great to see Sharpe Hampton 
fight I” 

“It is!” cries Hampton’s fiancee, her eyes lighting 
up also. 

“Ay di me, and for you, Americana,” sighs the danc- 
ing girl. “That is more than he ever did for me ex- 
cept when he quirted little Florito, who is counting 
and stealing my money, because Florito was going to 
beat me.” 

“Ah, then in gratitude to him, tell me where I can 


244 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


find him and take despair from him?” pleads Miss 
Godfrey. “Otherwise, I — I’ll only see his dead body. 
You know these mountains ahead of us. Aid me to 
get word to him.” 

“Word of what?” Shame flushes the expressive 
features of the figurante ; she asks eagerly : “How 
many letters have you written?” 

“Oh, many,” moans Estrella, “besides verbal mes- 
sages by dragoons riding to the front.” 

“Caramha, dragoons don’t overtake Sharpe Hamp- 
ton!” jeers Carmelita; then breaks forth into a nervous 
rhapsody: “The Spy Company! Always in front of 
all ! The Spy Company ! Sixty men leave Mata- 
moras ; now there are only thirty left. Always in front ; 
always seeking death ; blue chip men, who risk their 
lives on a revolver shot. Always fighting; always 
dying ; crazy men led by a crazy chief !” 

“Ah, you have seen him!” whispers Miss Godfrey. 
“You know where he is. Take me to him that I may 
make him want to live !” 

“And you have written how many letters to him to 
make him want to live?” asks Carmelita, in nervous 
eagerness. 

“Ah, yes, from Matamoras five; two from Camar- 
go.” 

''Diablo, seven!” 

“And you’ll take me to him ?” 

“How can I ? I am but a girl helpless as you with 
fighting men and battling armies. Ask that young dra- 
goon army officer, the one by whose side you rode to- 
day;” and Carmelita goes, jeeringly, away from the 
half-despairing American girl. 

But out of sight, concealed from her rival by a cac- 
tus hedge, and she gets to counting on her fingers : 
“One — two — three — yes. seven. I have them all ! All 
that came to the crazy Captain who cares so little for 
}iis life he is willing to toss it on the Mexican lances ; 


Tin: SPY COMPANY. 


245 


who some day, diablo, will perhaps get crazy enough 
to love me. And yet, when one night as he slept on 
the open prairie, I crawled through the grass to him 
to put my lips on his, and even in his sleep he turned 
away from me and whispered her name: ‘Strella.’ 
Then I could have driven knife through him or through ■ 
myself. But better drive it through her now she’s here ! 

I knew she’d come. Something told me. Come to tell 
him she forgives him for something that’s driving him 
crazy because he thinks he’s lost her. But I can stop 
her — stop her forever ! Why not ? Why did not Dona 
Highhorse keep up North, where she ought to be 
immodest thing following a man?” 

Into her half-crazy rhapsody is now insinuated the 
soft, suggestive voice of her patron. Little Florito, 
coming beside the dancing girl, whispers: “The 
American rica, the daughter of Godfrey, who owns the 
enormous flocks and herds and plantations in Texas, 
we missed her once. This time we will have her, a 
grand ransom. Here, far away in the recesses of the 
Sierra Madre, we can make Dona Godfrey so unhappy, 
she will be willing to write that they send whole mule- 
loads of silver dollars for her rescue. Santos, last time 
I think you played us a little false for love of that 

Texan Captain. Now ’ 

”Now,” whispers Carmelita, “now, when she is alone, 

no mercy is in my heart !’ 

“Then come, Til tell you my little plan. Dona Es- 
trella is seeking the man she loves. We will aid her, 
diablo, we will aid her!” 

At this Carmelita bursts into a mocking, jeering 
laugh, and follows her patron for true Mexican dagger- 
in-the-back plotting. 

As for Miss Godfrey, after having turned away 
hopeless of any aid from Carmelita, she goes to seek- 
ing among the gambling, laughing, dancing throng 


246 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


about the tables the wild-eyed Harry Love. Exclama- 
tions that arise over the twanging of the guitars and 
mandolins embarrass the young lady. 

“Whaugh,” says a Texan Ranger, “draw a bead on 
Josefa’s ankles; never saw purtier in old Kaintuck!” 

“Come on, boys, lets give the Greasers a Virginny 
reel !” cries another, leading out a bright-eyed poblana. 
“Don’t show your teeth, my little jealous Tomasito,” 
he adds, “or I’ll knock them down yer yaller belly.” 
This is addressed to a snarling Mexican who resents 
the enlevement of his sweetheart. 

As for Mr. Love, he is imbibing aguardiente, and 
has hilariously exclaimed : “Golly, ain’t drunk so 

much since I war weaned!” Then he laughs to a 
little manola of imploring eyes : “No, can’t have all 
my monte winnings this trip,” chinking some silver 
dollars in his hands, “but I’ll give ye one of these hyar 
to flip my heels wid ye,” and would lead the muchacha 
to the dance did not at this moment his eyes rest upon 
his beautiful charge, who in dejected attitude is look- 
ing sadly on. “Here’s yer dollar,” he cries to the 
poblana, “go and dance with Tomasito I” and, turning 
away, comes to Miss Godfrey, who is at the outskirts 
of the crowd. 

At the little adobe house where she has taken up her 
quarters and been made quite comfortable for a few 
silver dollars by the Mexican family that live in it, he 
says, in answer to the somewhat reproachful glance 
of the young lady and her inquiries : “Have you 
heard any news of him?” “I ain’t so full of mescal as I 
look. I kin think and talk straight as a rifle ball. 
From the gab of some of May’s Dragoons, they calker- 
late they’ll overtake Sharpe some time if he ain’t killed 
fust. They say the talk at headquarters is that Hamp- 
ton’s Spy Company has done more reliable scouting 
than any other gang of Rangers. Old Rough and 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


247 


Ready’s gone sweet on him, and that they’ll offer him 
a captaincy in the Rifles like they’re going to give Sam 
Walker, if Sharpe lives to git it.” 

“Lives to get it ! Oh, if I could see him and tell 
him that that wretch’s blood doesn’t stand between us, 
then perhaps he’ll live!” breaks out the girl, despair- 
ingly ; next sighs : “Sometimes, Harry, I fear some 
one’s stopping my communications to my affianced. 
You know how you rode after him down to Mata- 
moras. He had left there ; but you sent on my letter 
to the front. You had to return to your command. 
Now, thank God, the Ranger Colonel has given you 
dispatches to Hampton, though I don’t think it is much 
more than simply ‘For God’s sake, Sharpe, don’t throw 
away your life too carelessly !’ something of that 
nature I Hays in his kind heart calls it a dispatch and 
makes it your military duty to get this on from China. 
He gave it to my teary eyes, to my beseeching, that’s 
all ! He let me have you, Harry, to take me to the man 
I love 1 To the man who is going to die.” 

“Yas, we’re all a-gone to die,” remarks Love, philo- 
sophically, “if we git on much further. We’re now 
with the foremost cavalry troop, and if we go ahead 
of ’em. Lord knows what’ll happen to us. I kin fight 
for ye as good as any man. I kin kill a few dozen 
Greasers, I hope, before I go under, but there’s too 
many dozen to kill.’' 

“Yes, but I must see him. If he’d only join the 
main army and take his chances with the rest. He 
must soon, if he lives. They’re all gathering together 
now before Monterey to storm it. Then he’d have the 
chance of any other man. Now Sharpe has no chance 
at all, I think. You know if he had hope of me he 
wouldn’t try to throw his life away. Get me to him !” 

“Wall, I’ll — I’ll see what I kin do. You know the 
country from now on will be full of rancheros, and 


248 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Hampton’s away south of Monterey on the Saltillo 
road, I calculate, trying to see if the Mexicans are send- 
ing any reinforcements to join Ampudia. But I’ll — 
I’ll take a look about and talk to you a little later.” 

The frontiersman goes away, leaving the girl anx- 
iously pacing the mud floor of the adobe hut and sigh- 
ing to herself : “How to reach him ? How to reach 
him?” 

In this she is interrupted by little Florito, who. comes 
to her, a very suave look upon his olive face and a 
pleasant twinkle in his beady dark eyes. Stroking his 
long moustache and setting jauntily his red sash over 
his big bell-shaped trousers, and clanking his big spurs 
on his yellow boots, he says : “Honored Dona, I heard 
your request to Carmel ita. You wish to be guided to 
il Capitan Hampton. I can get you there for ” 

“For what?” asks Estrella, eagerly. 

“For a hundred silver pesos, or I’ll take it in gold. 
I’m not particular about little matters. I know a safe 
trail slightly south of here, more towards Montemore- 
los, that will reach the village where Hampton should 
be to-morrow.” 

“You are sure you can get me to Captain Hamp' 
ton?” Miss Godfrey’s tone implies doubt. 

“Quien sahef I can try,” mutters the Mexican. 
“If not to-morrow, certainly the next day. Are you 
willing to take the risks? There will be some.” 

“Yes, any risk! I will speak of your offer to Mr. 
Love, who has dispatches for the Captain from the 
Texan Colonel. He will go with me.” 

“Oh, the Wild Eyed Harry. He will go with you ? 
Bueno, speak to him. Then tell me if you wish to 
meet Captain Hampton.” 

The Mexican goes away, cursing to himself : “Df- 
ablo, if that crazy Texan Ranger went with us, at first 


THE SPY COMPANY. 249 

sign of treachery poor Florito would become vulture 
meat. Not Wild Harry, por amor de DiosT 

In this he is aided by the Texan himself. Miss God- 
frey, coming to Love, says : “Harry, good news. A 
little Mexican who is the head of the dancing troupe, 
who displays the one-legged clown and Carmelita, the 
dancing girl, and the boy who turns somersaults, he 
tells me that he knows a trail south of here. For a 
hundred pesos he will guide us through it to the vil- 
lage where Hampton must be to-morrow or the next 
day.” 

At this Love, turning his eyes upon her, cries : “Not 
much! That moon has made ye luny! Trust our- 
selves to that little sneaking yaller belly ? No sirree I 
We’d have a hundred ranchero lancers around us. 
We’d be gobbled I” 

“But he says he will swear on the Virgin that ” 

“No, Miss Godfrey,” answers the Ranger, “I’d 
never, if I lived to git through, dare to tell Sharpe 
that I let ye put such risk upon yerself. Besides, ’tain’t 
possible ye’d git through! Ye put that wild idea out 
of yer head. Git inter yer blankets and sleep it off !” 
and goes away, leaving the girl more unhappy than 
ever. 

But into her reverie comes Carmelita, and whispers 
to her sweetly, but passionately: “You say,* Yankee 
dona, you have news that if given to il Capitan Hamp- 
ton would prevent his throwing his life away, which, 
ay de mi, I fear he will do soon. No man can take 
such chances forever. Escopeta balls pierce a gallant 
heart as well as a coward’s. If you wish to give word 
to him. I’ll try to aid you.” 

“But Mr. Love says it isn’t possible we’d get 
through.” 

“Doubtless that would be true with a few armed 
soldiers, but Florito’s performing troupe wiJl not be 


250 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


touched by rancheros. We are free of attack. One 
night we dance to Canales’s Mexicans; the next night 
we amuse Gillespie’s Rangers or McCulloch’s Mounted 
i\Ien. We’re free to all. Now, if you alone go with 
us, you become a member of Florito’s travelling troupe, 
a dancing girl like myself, eh ?” 

‘'Oh, goodness !” half-shudders Miss Godfrey, blush- 
ingly gazing at the outre costume in which Carmelita 
stands before her. But a moment after she adds : 
“Still, I might journey with you. You might say I 
was a dancing girl, and I could keep my face veiled, 
after the manner of the Mexicanas, and I don’t think 
I’d be noticed.” 

“Of course not. Come with us. The hundred pe- 
sos for Florito. Come with us, but don’t tell Wild 
Eyed Harry. A word to him, and he wouldn’t let you 
go. He has already warned you, hasn’t he?” 

“Yes.” 

“It is your option. You can have word with Cap- 
tain Hampton, or you can let him die unknowing what 
you wish to say.” 

“I’ll have word with Captain Hampton !” answers 
Estrella, excitedly. “That wretch’s blood shall not 
forever stand between us. Here’s your hundred pe- 
sos.” She gives it to Carmelita in gold from a little 
sack she carries at her belt. “Go make the arrange- 
ments. What time do we leave?” 

“At two o’clock in the morning, when all sleep. But 
we must go out quietly,” and Carmelita departs. 

To herself, Estrella communes devotedly : “I’ll take 
the chance. It has been so weary waiting — a month 
— and he thinking all the time that wretch’s blood was 
that of my father, and so there could be no hope for us 
together in this life. Yes, I’ll see Sharpe to-morrow 
or the next day. See him ! O, Heaven, will the clouds 
pass away and the sunshine break forth upon us again !” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


251 


After a moment Miss Godfrey, becoming calmer, 
sits down and writes in pencil — there is no pen and ink 
in the place — upon some pages of a memorandum book 
certain instructions to Mr. Martin, her old guardian, 
who by this time, she thinks, must be at the Hacienda 
of Live Oaks taking charge of its enormous estate, for 
now she has discovered large sums of money in Nev/ 
Orleans banks and the tremendous flocks and herds 
and fields of which she is possessed. But her riches 
have perhaps only hastened her speeding after her 
affianced, separated from her by his terrible misappre- 
hension. 

Unable to get news to Hampton, Estrella had des- 
perately come down to Matamoras, then up the Rio 
Grande to Camargo, where she had left Zelma behind 
her, wishing to be free for rapid travel, the octoroon 
being unaccustomed to horse exercise. So she, riding 
Indian fashion, as she had come over the prairie, with 
revolvers in her belt, under Love’s escort, had jour- 
neyed, overtaking various columns of Taylor’s infantry 
and regiments of cavalry and battalions of artillery. 
As the fair girl has passed through the rough sol- 
diers’ hats have been raised quietly to her, they think- 
ing she is some young widow or some daughter com- 
ing down for her dead, for many brave spirits have 
passed of wounds and more of fever along that track 
from Camargo to Monterey, and many more will die 
as they storm the Mexican citadel ere they plant the 
American flag on the Bishop’s palace. 

With this letter which she addresses to Alexander 
Martin, and with another that bears the name of Sharpe 
Hampton, the young lady comes out of the little adobe 
house and wanders to the fandango, which is still in 
progress, though the torches are burning more dimly. 
Here she finds a dashing young officer of May’s Dra- 
goons to whom she says : “Lieutenant Pelham.” 


2$2 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


And he, looking at her, whispers : “jMiss Godfrey, 
how can I serve you and raises his hat, though cour- 
teously, quite formally, for already this young man 
knows that there is no hope for him of the fair girl’s 
love. 

“In case there is any accident to me, would you 
kindly deliver this letter to Captain Hampton? You, 
I think, owe it to me for the wild words you spoke to 
him that evening in Corpus Christi that kept his tongue 
silent too long. Of course, you know we are affi- 
anced ?” 

“Yes,” mutters the dragoon. “I know that, and for 
my impulsive words I will deliver this letter to Captain 
Hampton if I die doing it. But you spoke — of — of 
some accident to you. There is some danger here, of 
course, to every one. Have you anything particular 
to fear?” 

“No, except that I shall be without escort. To- 
morrow I journey by a quicker way than your column 
would take.” 

“That must not be !” cries Pelham, earnestly. “That 
must not be !” 

“Pve got to go. I have got to find Sharpe before 
the next fight !” answers Estrella, frantically. “Every 
minute from, him is danger to him. I’ve got to tell 
my affianced there is no reason for his leaving me, who 
was to be his bride within forty-eight hours, leaving 
me almost at the church door !” 

“He thinks you untrue to him?” gasps the dragoon 
in low, astounded voice. 

“Thank God, not that ! Sharpe thinks he has killed 
my father, when it was only a vile wretch imperso- 
nating him. Should you ineet Sharpe Hampton, teli 
him he did the kindest deed man could do for woman 
in shooting down the false Jim Godfrey, who, pretend- 
ing fatherhood, would have made my broken heart the 


^53 


THE SPV COJIPANY. 

buttress of his safety against the world. Sharpe will 
understand. The story is too painful for me to tell in 
detail. Good-bye. Thank you for your promise.'’ 

Miss Godfrey goes quietly away, and, finding the 
company’s quartermaster-sergeant, delivers to him for 
transportation her letter to Martin, and also a short 
note, requesting him to hand it to Private Harry Love 
at reveille. 

Whereupon early this morning, long before day- 
break, a strange cavalcade gets in motion. It consists 
of Florito’s troupe of travelling performers. Among 
them rides Estrella Godfrey, looking not so unlike Car- 
melita, being dressed in the riding costume usual to 
Mexican girls. 

In front of her travels the one-legged clown, who 
has now become two-legged, straddling his horse with 
the grace of a vacquero. The boy who threw somer- 
saults the evening before is an equally good equestrian, 
and leads a couple of pack mules laden with the per- 
forming costumes and the impedimenta of the party. 

So they take their way out of the little Mexican vil- 
lage, passing the American sentries, to whom Florito 
delivers a pass signed by the commanding officer; 
though the showman seems to be known quite well to 
the outposts, one of them saying : ‘‘That was a mighty 
good show you gave us last night. But, by Pike Coun- 
ty, ye didn’t trot out both of yer dancing girls !” He 
glances towards Miss Godfrey, who is heavily veiled 
with her rehozo fapado. 

“Yes, my debutante,” chuckles Florito. “She dances 
for the first time at the next pueblo.” 

Then they take their way up a trail leading by a rush- 
ing brook that comes foaming from the Sierras, behind 
which the moon is now sinking, its last rays illumining 
heavy .chaparral of cacti, Spanish daggers, mesquites 


254 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


and prickly pears, though higher up among the hills 
are pines and firs. 

With every step of Mulefoot along this rocky path 
Miss Godfrey thinks, excitedly : “I am getting nearer 
to my love 1” 

But Florito, as he rides, the last of the party, grins 
to himself : “Diablo, a grand ransom and likewise a 
grand revenge. The affianced wife of the Ranger Cap- 
tain who quirted me publicly on the plaza of Mata- 
moras. For Dios, and she, my prey, whom I will make 
my peon, and coin her charms into money till I let her 
ransom herself and make me rich !” 

As for Carmelita, perhaps she has some conscience 
— for once or twice, riding by the side of her beautiful 
fellow peon, she has opened her lips impulsively, as if 
to say some words of warning, but each time the very 
loveliness of her exquisite American rival has made 
her snap her pearly teeth together like a vicious pec- 
cary. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE WAIF OF THE BORDER. 

From Monterey, the capital of Nueva Leon, now 
beleaguered by General Taylor's Army, extends a 
mountain valley running something over forty miles 
to a little southwest of the town of Saltillo. A 
long upland plateau, varying in width from a few hun- 
dred yards to four or five miles, it is quite well culti- 
vated for Mexico, having a number of cornfields 
watered by the San Juan River, which gradually tow- 
ards the south diminishes into a little stream. On both 
sides it is bordered by the almost impassable mountains 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


255 


of the Sierra Madre, most of the escarpments of which 
are very steep. 

Up this valley passes the main and only road capable 
of the transportation of artillery or the necessary im- 
pedimenta of an army marching from Monterey south 
to attack San Luis Potosi, en route for the City of 
Mexico. But a cut-off, a narrow mule path leaving the 
immediate rear of Monterey, leads through the high 
mountains, and after a number of miles of rocky trail 
over commanding heights and dizzy precipices reenters 
the Saltillo Valley. Monterey being now surrounded 
by the American Army, Worth’s Division having got 
in the rear of it and cut its garrison off from the main 
road, this rocky defile is the only path open for passage 
of infantry or light cavalry reinforcements to the gar- 
rison of the beleaguered city, though utterly impassable 
to artillery or heavily accoutred men. 

Into this trail leads the little mountain path over 
which Florito and his party escorting Miss Godfrey, 
journeying- through the hills from the east, descend 
upon the third day after the night of the fandango. 
Florito thinks it is far from the highways of troops, 
as he has no wish to surrender this valuable young 
lady he is luring into captivity to rancheros. Under 
his guidance they have gone at first towards Monte- 
morelos, then have turned west through the hills which 
gradually have become higher. Finally passing the 
divide, they have spent two nights at little mountain 
ranchos and are now descending into the main Saltillo 
Valley, nearly a score of miles southwest of Monterey. 

At the junction of these two trails, just out of the 
big valley, is a little pueblo nestled in the hills and well 
sheltered among woods of mountain timber. From it, 
running down into the main plateau, the path is wider 
and less precipitous, and might even permit the pas- 
sage of a well-horsed light field piece, though the gorge 


256 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


leading to the mountains is impracticable to any but 
horsemen or footmen. 

As Miss Godfrey in company with Florito and his 
party rides into this little Mexican town towards even- 
ing she scarce notices the place itself, which seems very 
quiet and peaceful, though from the northeast comes 
a low, faint, very distant rumbling, which she thinks is 
thunder; though it is the roar of cannon telling of 
dying brave men around the distant walls of assaulted 
Monterey. 

All the young lady’s eyes show her is that there is a 
long, narrow defile leading through the great mountains 
to the north, and into this descends the smaller mule 
path that she has travelled. That beyond this, al- 
most where the gorge debouches upon the plateau, is 
a little town of adobes containing the ordinary plaza 
upon one side of which is the usual Mexican church 
built of stone, with its little peculiar shaped belfry. 
Opposite this, on the other side of the plaza, stands a 
half-ruined monastery; about it cactus-covered walls 
also of stone, in which are visible the orange trees, 
flowers and grape vines of a deserted garden. This 
religious house has probably been abandoned by its 
monks from the time of the Mexican War of Inde- 
pendence. 

Slightly nearer to them is a lower building, presum- 
ably once a convent for women. It adjoins the monas- 
tery, yet fronts another side of the plaza. Over all 
this, lighting the gorge and making red the Saltillo 
Valley beyond, is the great tropic sun sinking behind 
the higher peaks of the Sierra Madre. 

But in the red glow that illumines the unpaved 
streets, though her eyes seek for them hungrily as 
those of a traveller on the desert looking for an oasis, 
she notes no Texan Rangers. As their little cavalcade 
comes jingling into it she can see only a few nirales 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


257 


of the nearby valley, a lot of cigarette-smoking niosos 
and leperos, and a few gaudily skirted pohlanas, who 
lounge about in their free Mexican style, though this 
evening the very distant thunderstorm to the north 
seems to put some excitement into them. 

These crowd about the little party as Florito halts 
his caballada in front of the deserted convent, whose 
adobe walls are quite thick, having grated windows 
and an unusually strong reja fixed on its heavily stud- 
ded street door, though the iron work is rendered weak 
by the rust of generations. This ruined convent Florito’s 
party take possession of with scant ceremony, their 
chief hurrying oif in his active Latin way to plant his 
banner in the plaza and see the alcalde as to arrange- 
ments for the coming exhibition. 

Here in a big room with grated windows opening 
upon the plaza Carmelita says : ‘‘Behold our quar- 
ters !” and prepares to make herself comfortable,, laugh- 
ing as Estrella shudders at the alacrans, centipedes 
and scorpions that they find wandering about its cor- 
ners and crevices. “Do with them as I do !” she cries, 
vivaciously, as she crushes an alacran under her little 
foot. 

But even these reptiles affect Miss Godfrey’s mind 
only passingly. She has sunk upon a pile of blankets 
they have tossed down for her on the mu4 floor, and 
is thinking only of meeting Hampton, which now seems 
to her almost suspiciously delayed. After a little 
she watches lazily, for she is quite tired, the hastily 
lighted fire and the tortillas being made upon a hot 
stone by a girl who seems to be the maid of all work 
of the party, and who sold mescal and refreshments at 
Florito’s fandango four evenings before, likewise the 
olla podrida which is being cooked in an iron pot, 
plenty of chili-colorado being tossed into it with suffi- 
cient of garlic to make her open her nostrils. During 


THE SPY COMPAKY. 


258 

this the American girl runs over in her mind rather 
dreamily the incidents of her strange journey, which 
through the mountains has been quite coolly pleasant 
compared with that of the hot roads over the lower 
plains. 

During her travels she has received complaisant at- 
tention from her fellow travellers and much encourage- 
ment from little Florito, who, as he has ridden beside 
her, has whispered to her every now and then: “Fa- 
nios, il Capitan Hampton is ahead of us.” 

To this she has said : “You seem to know his com- 
pany’s movements very well.” 

And the little scoundrel, being anxious to keep up 
her resolution and incite her to rapid riding, has dis- 
closed to her rather incautiously, though he is far away 
from Mexican lancers, that he has been at times a spy 
for the Americanos, and thus knows Hampton’s prob- 
able location. “I have been with the Texan Captain 
on and off this month, so has Carmelita,” he says be- 
tween puffs of his cigarette. “We have been valuable 
to him in — oh, you understand — information. Car- 
melita and I could go into Monterey unquestioned.” 

“You have been with Captain Hampton, and she has 
been with Captain Hampton for the last month,” mut- 
ters Miss Godfrey, and looks with uneasy eyes at the 
beauty of the dancing girl who is riding in her grace- 
ful Mexican style near the head of the party. 

''Cierto. Carmelita is quite the right hand of the 
American Captain. She would do anything for him. 
You understand, quite the right hand?” 

“Ah, yes, I believe I understand,” sighs Estrella, 
though she cannot believe his words. Yet once or 
twice in the last day or two, thinking of this, she has 
said to herself: “Why should I try to see him? If 
Sharpe really loved me, he could not ” then shud- 

dered : “Why not ! He thinks a father’s blood stands 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


259 


between us and I am lost to him forever!” This has 
affected her spirits as she has ridden over the steep 
mountain passes, the sure hoofs of Mulefoot carrying 
her safely across the dizzy trail. Several times she has 
cried mentally: ‘Tt is a duty I Under the circum- 
stances, I will tell this man 1” then has tearfully fal- 
tered : ‘Tf he has no hope of me, what may he not 
have carelessly done? May he not have tried to for- 
get me in ” She cannot continue the cruel thought. 

She simply wrings her hands and begins to hate Car- 
melita as thoroughly as Carmelita hates her. 

As for Carmelita, several times during this curious 
journey she has looked upon her lovely companion 
when they have got to chatting together — as girls will 
do, even if they hate each other — with strange spasms 
of conscience in her eyes. Once she and Florito have 
had a very angry discussion, the little showman bandit 
raising his quirta to the dancing girl, and she putting 
her little hand upon the stiletto in her bosom, has mut- 
tered, snarlingly: “The time has passed for that. 
Caramha, a blow and you are dead !” Then she has 
laughed jeeringly: “There are tenderer shoulders 
than mine. Beat your other slave!” 

But Miss Godfrey doesn’t know the covert sugges- 
tion of Carmelita’s words, and journeys unsuspectingly 
along. For all through this curious ride, even after 
the days have passed in which Florito has promised 
she should encounter the Texan Ranger, she has had 
but little thought of her own personal peril. She has 
grown so accustomed to thinking of Hampton’s danger 
that her own risk seldom rises in her mind. Besides, 
she feels quite confident of her own powers of self- 
defence. Has she not the Ranger’s two five-shooters 
at her belt, and does she not know how to use these 
arms with precision and effect! 

Perchance she wouldn’t be as confident of their value 


26 o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


did slie remember that at the last halt, where she had 
unbuckled for her convenience the belt that carries the 
heavy weapons and put them by her side, that Car- 
melita has attracted her attention by taking her to see 
some wild flowers growing in a rocky nook, lovely 
orchids that are found very beautiful in^ Mexico ; that 
when she has returned from this, only a few steps away 
in a little neighboring gorge, Florito’s manner has been 
much easier, and he has chuckled right merrily to him- 
self as she has buckled on the belt containing her 
weapons. 

This retrospection is interrupted by the return of 
Florito, who says, contentedly : “Carmelita, Fve seen 
the alcalde. We perform this evening in the little 
plaza.” 

But Miss Godfrey, starting up, asks him : “Any 
news of the Spy Company?” 

“No, no news of the rangers,” he grins, “but we are 
going towards them — to-morrow,” he waves his hand 
towards the west. 

But Florito’s only intention is to get as far as pos- 
sible from the rangers and, in fact, he doesn’t care to 
be bothered by Mexican rancheros. They might take 
his valuable captive from him. In his mind is the 
pleasing thought: “To-morrow we will cross the 
valley and enter the main range. A few days from 
now we will be in their fastnesses, well away from 
contending armies, where I can make this rica girl write 
such tearful letters that they will send for her delivery 
whole mule-leads of silver. Diablo, then I will become 
a rico myself !” 

So over their supper he gets to chatting quite mer- 
rily, saying to Carmelita, who has already put herself 
into dancing toilet : '‘Santos, you’re pretty enough to 
make a saint want to kiss you,” and, chucking her un- 
der the chin, would perhaps place a salute upon the 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


261 


dewy cherries she calls lips; but she steps back, and, 
raising quick as lightning a stiletto, utters this astound- 
ing sentiment for a woman : “Florito, dare to tell me 
I am beautiful again and I’ll kill you. My lips are 
only for one man !” 

“Who never kisses* them V’ sneers the acute little 
scoundrel. 

At this cruel scoflf Carmelita looks at him with ago- 
nized face, then throws up her hands and gasps : “Ay 
de mi !” and sinks down upon a pile of blankets, crying 
as if her heart would break, while the volatile little 
showman goes chucklingly away to engage pine torches 
to illuminate this evening’s exhibition in the plaza. 

Looking upon this, a curious thought enters Miss 
Godfrey: “For whom does she keep her lips? 

Hampton ; who never kisses them !” and for every sob 
of Carmelita there is a rapturous hope in the American 
girl’s heart. 

Quite shortly afterwards, hope is changed to terror. 
Florito flies in excitedly and cries : '‘Santos, you see 
them !” 

“What, the Spy Company?” ejaculates Miss God- 
frey, starting up wildly. 

“No, maldito, the accursed lancers ofJTanales ! See, 
they are coming up the defile from the Saltillo* road !” 

Looking through the grated windows Miss Godfrey 
notices in the dusk a column of rough-riding lancers, 
the colors of their little green, white and red Mexican 
flag, its centre emblazoned by an Aztec eagle, being 
apparent in the light of the torches flaming for Flo- 
rito’s exhibition in the plaza. 

To the little showman’s rage, these fellows, some 
hundred of them, make their preparations for the night, 
putting out a picket further up the canon and lighting 
fires in the plaza ; the bulk of the men occupying the 


262 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


church, and their officers going off to the alcalde’s house 
for their supper. 

Peering out at them, Miss Godfrey thinks : ‘‘These 
are the men from whom Hampton rescued me by put- 
ting the Comanches on them five months ago. And in 
all this time the man I love and I have had but one — 
one blessed interview in which we told our passion to 
the other. And now, when I had hoped to see his dash- 
ing Rangers, these ruffians again cut me off from him. 
Fate is against me !” 

Fate seems also to be against Florito; he is not 
very eager for the lancers of Canales. “The beasts 
will give me next to nothing!” he snarls, “and they’ll 
want everything ; every dance ; every contortion ; every 
performer among us.” Then he cries suddenly to Miss 
Godfrey : “Keep your head from the window, girl 1” 
next mutters, affrightedly : ^'Diablo, you will have to 
appear nowT 

“I ?” This is a half-scream from the American girl. 

“Yes, the mozos are chattering of my two dancing 
girls. I mentioned you in my troupe to the alcalde. 
For your own safety, you will have to be a Hgurante. 
Otherwise the officers of these devil lancers, if they 
guess, will demand you as their prisoner, and then, 
santos y muertos, what will happen to you !” 

“I — I, a dancing girl?” stammers Estrella, getting 
red to the roots of her hair. 

'‘Cierto, why not? You can dance?” 

“Oh, yes, but only ballroom steps.” 

''Caspita, that’s the idea. Ballroom steps. A nov- 
elty. La Polka is now the favorite dance of Mexico. 
Polka high. Kick your feet in air. Polka after the 
Parisian manner I Carmelita, make her look like you !” 
and he goes away, leaving Miss Godfrey trembling and 
confused. 

As for Carmelita, a kind of nasty triumph is in her 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


263 


eyes. She is thinking : “Hampton turned up his nose 
at me, the dancing girl. Bueno, she will be no better 
than I am. And then her beauty and Canales’s officers 
— Madre de Dios, it is a devilish thing I am doing !” 
But she goes with eager hands making Estrella like 
herself, chatting laughingly : “You will never be dis- 
covered. Bah, some yellow clay and some wild cherry 
juice upon those pretty white legs of yours, and they’ll 
be as brown as mine. My skin’s as white as yours. 
Your face is as tanned as mine now. It is only sun- 
shine,” and Carmelita pulls her chemise from her 
shoulders, showing them as beautifully formed and as 
dazzlingly white where protected from the sun as even 
those of the fair American. ''Jesus, dressed like me, 
floating rebozo on your head, comb and castanets. 
Vaya, you’re a dancing girl.” 

During this she has been getting the American girl 
into a costume like unto hers that she pulls from one 
of the saddle bags. In this, though unaided, she has 
not been resisted by Miss Godfrey, for in her agita- 
tion Estrella doesn’t know exactly what to do. She is 
thinking of Canales’s awful lancers. In- her ears is 
ringing Florito’s terrible insinuation : “And then, 

santos y muertos, what will happen to you !” 

In a state of modest coma Miss Godfrey permits 
Carmelita to unbind her hair and do it up in the float- 
ing Spanish fashion, with comb and lace rebozo float- 
ing from it, and allows even her shoulders to be stained 
with the wild cherry juice, which Manola, the girl at- 
tendant, has brought in. 

Though glancing down upon herself now in the danc- 
ing-girl’s costume, she knows she could easier die than 
pose in its semi-nudity of limbs and bosom, before the 
crowd gathering in the plaza. 

Mistaking the repugnance on Estrella’s face, Car- 
melita says reassuringly : “Idiot, don’t be frightened. 


264 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


You look well enough. Verdad, you’ve got the finest 
shape in all Mexico!” Putting a blazing torch before 
a cracked mirror that she uses during personal adorn- 
ment, she places her arm about Estrella’s waist, and 
half pulls the American girl to it. “Here, look in the 
glass!” she laughs, then ejaculates in a dazed way: 
'‘Santissima Virgen, we’re as like as two cherries.” 

Miss Godfrey carelessly gazing into the mirror starts 
astounded; for face by face, the heads of both girls, 
crowned with Spanish combs and floating lace scarfs, 
their hair unbound and mixed together, their delicate 
shoulders and bosoms side by side rising from the 
snowy chemises, they look like copies of the same paint- 
ing. 

Though Carmelita’s figure is a little slenderer, and 
her eyes and hair are slightly darker, the features of 
both have the same cast, their eyes the same expression, 
their faces the most striking resemblance of family and 
blood. 

Jesus, we’re as like as two sisters !” laughs Carmel- 
ita. 

“Like as two sisters!” cries Estrella, looking at the 
mirror as if fascinated. “Like as two sisters?” She 
ponders a moment and then asks eagerly : “You — you 
told me you were the waif of the border. Who are 
your father and mother ?” 

“Devil knows,” jeers Carmelita. “Apparently they 
looked like your father and mother.” 

“Did I not tell you once I had a sister stolen? Your 
age ?” asks Estrella, her voice tender but anxious. 

”Quien sdbe? The sisters at Chihuahua got me when 
I must have been about four. They called me twelve 
when I left them. I — I’m eighteen now. But why are 
you bothering with these questions? Let me get you 
ready for la Polka !” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 265 

^^You remember nothing of your past? No memory 
floats to you?” goes on Miss Godfrey, unheeding. 

“Yes, my first recollection was a kick of a mule, and 

my second a crack from a quirta, and my but don’t 

you dare cry for me. I’m tough as rawhide ! Besides 
I had a bauble once, a little circle. It was of gold, so 
I lost it at monte ; bet it against a silver dollar.” 

“A circle like mine !” cries Estrella. 

“Yes ; did you win it from the monte man ? Besides, 
there was a word.” 

“The word you remember !” 

“Oh, it was — it wasn’t even Americano. Sounded 
like the priests’ Latin. Guess I must have heard it at 
mass.” 

“What was it ?” 

“Well, it was — some name or something. What are 
you asking me these questions for? Caramha, what 
are you excited about? Here’s the cherry juice ! Let 
me make those white legs as brown as mine.” 

“Think, think ; please think !” cries Estrella. “No- 
thing till you think !” 

“Well, it was See-bill !” Then Carmelita snarls an- 
grily : “Curse you, don’t kiss me !” 

For the other has got her arm about her and is half 
crying, half whispering : “Sybil ! I believe you’re my 
sister.” 

“Ah, don’t try that dodge on me to get my sympa- 
thy,” scoflfs Carmelita, pulling herself away. “If you 
were my sister, do you suppose I could stand by and 

see you ” She snaps her pearly teeth together and 

goes away murmuring in a shame-faced manner : “Sis- 
ter — sister! That would be bad luck! Sister — San- 
tissima Virgen, then I couldn’t hate her !” Still, this con- 
sideration seems to have some weight on the dancing 
girl’s mind. 

Quite shortly after, Florito coming in crying : 


266 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


“Canales and his officers are all ready for the show/’ 
and asking eagerly: “Let me look at my debutante.” 
Carmelita, drawing him aside, whispers : “Impossible 
to display her. Look at her trying to hide herself from 
you. That extraordinary attribute the Americanas 
call shame would betray her. Canales must not guess 
you have a Yankee with you. You have been going too 
much lately with Americanos for your own safety. If 
they suspected you had been a Yankee spy, poor little 
Florito would be stood against that church wall and 
filled as full of escopeta balls as pigs are with stuffing.” 

“Santos y demonios, I believe you’re right,” shud- 
ders the little fellow, with white lips. Hastily throw- 
ing a sarape over Miss Godfrey, he whispers : “Keep 
close here, girl, for your own life. Don’t burn any 
lights. Carmelita shall dance in your place, and I will, 
if questioned, say you are ill of the fever or the vomito. 
That will keep them away !” 

But Carmelita, gazing on him, mutters excitedly 
to herself : “What devilish thing has Florito in his 
eyes? When Florito blinks, look out for him. Santa 
Maria, he has blinked four times !” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE SPY COMPANY. 

So the two leave Estrella in the dark, bat-haunted, 
insect-crawling place. She hears Carmelita’s light 
voice die away in the distance, likewise the exclama- 
tions of the clown, who has become again one-legged, 
and the acrobatic boy as they go out to performance. 
Then after a time from the plaza float in the shouts 


THE SPY COMPANY. 267 

and ‘'Buenos !” of the crowd as the performance seems 
to go merrily along. 

Though the illumination of the torches in the plaza 
puts a dull radiance into portions of the room, Miss 
Godfrey doesn’t look out or heed this very much. She 
is meditating of the sister she has claimed; and her 
heart becomes tender to the waif of the frontier. She 
sighs, thinking of the uncared for child tossed helpless 
among the rough men of the border, Mexicans, Yan- 
kees and half-breeds, whose diversion Carmelita must 
have been at fandangos and fairs ; whose badinage, ap- 
plause and admiration the dancing girl had been com- 
pelled to accept as part of her very business, controlled 
by a master who cares for nothing but dollars. By 
this time, Estrella gauges Florito’s character very well, 
though there is a crafty zenith of villainy in the little 
fellow that later will make her blood run very cold in 
her veins. 

Then, under the martial sounds without, for they 
are changing sentries, her mind drifts to the man she 
loves, but scarce hopes to see again. Thinking of 
Hampton, she shudders at Canales. 

About this time. Miss Godfrey can hear horse’s 
hoofs coming at a gallop along the mountain trail from 
the north towards Monterey, and every now and then 
the dull, distant thunder seems to float through the 
mountain pass, though it never gets nearer and there 
is no lightning. 

Then there are fiercer cries and great excitement 
from without; and the listening girl hears horse’s 
hoofs again, though these go rapidly down into the 
main valley. But the hasty words of two men passing 
along the side of the plaza by her grated window tell 
her that the booming of distant thunder to the north 
is the American attack on Monterey : likewise that for 


268 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


some unknown reason reinforcements have been sent 
for by Canales. 

Hearing this, Estrella wrings her hands and cries 
out in despair : “Florito again promised that to-mor- 
row I should meet Hampton and his dashing Rangers, 
and now more of these ruffian lancers to make escape 
impossible.” 

So it goes along in her mind ; Carmelita ! Hampton ! 
Canales ! each bringing misery to her, till almost morn- 
ing, the revelry being still kept up outside, as these 
aguardiente-drinking rancheros are not troops under 
regular discipline. 

As daylight comes into the great room through its 
big barred openings, danger imminent and degrading 
confronts the watching girl. Carmelita enters hastily 
and goes nervously about exchanging her dancing cos- 
tume for the riding dress in which she travels. Then 
she lights a cigarette and as she puffs it communes 
with herself as if trying to fight down a rising con- 
science. “A courier has come from the north. Canales 
has sent to Muertos for reinforcements. A colonel of 
cavalry may head them. Before his commanding of- 
ficer arrives, Canales will take action.” She walks up 
to Estrella and mutters : ‘‘Jesus, why have you made 
me a devil? Why have you loved the man I love? 
Why have you made his face cold to me? Why have 
you caused him to turn from my proffered lips ?” 

“A dancing girl’s lips are proffered to too many,” 
says Afiss Godfrey, rising haughtily. Agony and de- 
spair have embittered her tongue. 

“Oh, yes, a dancing girl, but still like you, cold 
Northern creature, immaculate. Caramba, don’t turn 
from me as if I were contaminated — immaculate as 
you! I was a child when I first saw the handsome 
Captain and loved him, as he kept me from a beating 
— a child ! Since that time I have held my lips for him 


THE SPY COMPANY. 269 

as surely, as safely, as you, cold Northern beauty, have 
preserved your lips. It’s easy to be virtuous when one 
loves but one man and — and he won’t love you.” Then 
she cries petulantly : “Stop kissing me !” 

For Estrella has got Carmelita in her arms and is 
caressing and sobbing over her, and blessing her be- 
cause Sharpe Hampton has not succumbed to her 
witcheries and allurements. 

“Oh, you needn’t thank me — thank him. When 
Sharpe has lain out on the open plain at night, when 
Florito and I had been engaged in going through the 
Mexican lines and bringing him information, I have 
crawled to him — to kiss him; and in his sleep he has 
murmured your name. Oh, I could have driven knife 
through him or through myself. That’s why I have 

kept from him your ’’ Carmelita snaps her teeth 

together, but hangs her head in shame-faced way. 

“That’s why you’re here about to be ” She pauses 

again and cries : “No, no ! You have called me sis- 
ter ; I must save you from that !” and hastily throws a 
cloak over Estrella. 

“Save me from what?” 

“Florito! That little villain must sacrifice you to 
save his beastly life. Made arrogant by aguardiente, 
he foolishly showed the gold you had given him and 
what he had picked up by other efforts, some of it. from 
the man you love. Canales always wants all the gold 
he sees. The guerrilla officer had heard reports that 
Florito had been agent for los Yankees; so they will 
shoot Florito for a spy if they spare not his life for 
some big ransom. Florito knows that, and his big 
ransom will be you — your charms and beauty.” 

“Me!” shrieks Estrella, springing up, and passes to 
the door as if to try to fly, but Carmelita puts detain- 
ing arm upon her, and mutters sadly : “Too late.” 

For staggering in, is little Florito, his cunning face 


270 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


very pale, his snake-like eyes excited, his lithe limbs 
trembling. A burning torch is in his hand, as if he 
feared Estrella might conceal herself. This he sticks 
into the mud floor of the room, murmuring apologeti- 
cally, half to himself, half to his victim : “There is 
nothing for it. Canales, if I give you to him, will 
after” — his tongue seems ashamed to utter the devil- 
ish thought — “after a time permit you to be ransomed. 
That money the guerrilla officer will divide with me. 
But otherwise — he accuses mie of horrible things — me 
a Mexican patriot! He hints I am a Yankee spy, and 
threatens a court-martial. A drumhead don’t take ten 
minutes.” Suddenly the little chap listens and gasps, 
tremblingly : ^‘Dios, I can hear the guard loading their 
arms now !” To this he adds in devilish yet faltering 
philosophy : “Man, when his life is in danger, must do 
everything to protect it. It is his duty, you see, Senor- 
ita Godfrey, his duty.” 

For Estrella has thrown herself upon her knees and 
is pleading: “For God’s sake, don’t — don’t give me 
over to Canales.” But seeing he still moves towards 
the door, the American gii l suddenly springs up, com- 
mands hoarsely: “You shall not!” and drawing her 
revolver, sights him by the torchlight. To Carmelita 
she calls : “Bar that door !” and to the showman says 
sternly : “Move an inch to tell them you have me cap- 
tive here, and it is your last step!” The pistol is 
leveled very straight and doesn’t tremble. 

But the little fellow, with a mocking laugh, still 
moves from her. 

“Then God forgive you and forgive me!” mutters 
the brave girl, and shoots to kill. 

But the lock on her revolver only snaps. She turns 
the cylinder again, and aiming very straight, pulls the 
trigger once more, but no report answers the sharp 
click of the lock. To her jeers Florito: “You forget 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


271 


you’ve left your pistols aside when Carmelita took you 
to see the wild flowers in the glen.” 

“Oh, you conscienceless wretch !” cries Estrella, turn- 
ing in despairing reproach upon the dancing girl. “You, 
whom I once called sister, you!” Then she falters: 
“Deserted!” for Carmelita, with a muttered “Forgive 
me !” has run out of the door, and Florito has darted 
after her and is now bolting the door upon the outside. 

The girl hears the bars coming down one after the 
other, then the click of a rusty lock, though the dastard 
calls through in guarded voice : “Courage, I want all 
your ransom. I shall not give you up till I am look- 
ing at the guns of the firing party. Dios de me Madre, 
I am a man of honor !” 

Fortunately in this moment of despair, Estrella God- 
frey’s pistols are unfireable, else she would kill herself 
and thus make sure Canales never will put his paws 
upon her. But now the very helplessness of her situa- 
tion forces her to inertness. Gazing about the big, 
empty, mud-floored room into which she has been 
locked, the girl feels sure its doors will never open 
except for her delivery to the bandit chieftain. She 
looks at her nude white limbs and uncovered should- 
ers and shudders : “I will not be dragged out in this 
shameless garb,” and hurriedly throws off the light 
costume of the dancing girl and contrives to put her- 
self once more in the Indian riding dress she had worn. 

During this, she has once or twice, attracted by 
noises in the plaza, looked out with staring eyes. By 
the increasing morning light, she has seen apparently 
a drumhead court-martial of three or four officers 
gathered together outside the church. It is scarce 
three hundred feet away. Before them she recognizes 
Florito. She knows he will not tell of her until his 
last chance is gone. She is too valuable to share her 
ransom with another. 


272 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


But now what passes before her swimming eyes 
makes her shiver as if she had the ague. She sees the 
firing party being drawn up. Florito is about to be 
dragged to the fatal wall. With wild gesticulation he 
has beckoned imploringly Canales apart and talked hur- 
riedly to him, and that guerrilla chief, with long, black 
moustache, dark, ferocious, merciless eyes, is laughing 
and looking at her place of imprisonment, and giving 
some hurried orders. But just here a mounted man, 
coming down the trail from the north, hurries into the 
plaza, and draws the scoundrel’s attention from her by 
crying out : '‘Americanos!’' 

The laugh and triumph stop on the guerrilla chief’s 
face. 

Estrella sees his officers hurriedly marshaling all his 
men. “Surely to seize a poor girl, they wouldn’t need 
so many,” she thinks, and noting Canales point up the 
canon, she follows his motion and gives a gasp of crazy 
joy. 

Coming down from the north along the trail are a 
company of mounted men. By their garb and arma- 
ment, she knows they are Rangers, and looking with 
all her eyes, can’t believe them. Her limbs tremble as 
the fear of death is lifted from them. She whispers: 
“The Spy Company !” then cries : “Sharpe Hampton ! 
He’s here. I am saved.” To herself she laughs : “Can- 
ales’s men are gliding away. They have no wish for 
battle with even these few Americanos.” Then pauses 
horrified in her triumph, for she notes the Mexicans 
are preparing an ambuscade, some fifty of them going 
quietly with their escopetas into the church that the 
Texans must ride past. The^xest are hurriedly mount- 
ing and arraying themselves. She sees under the mists 
of the morning a cloud of dust very distant coming up 
the broad Saltillo valley. She remembers Carmelita’s 
words, and mutters to herself, with white lips : “Re- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 273 

inforcements from Muertos. It is an ambuscade ! 
Hampton, pursuing the cavalry, will ride into the dead- 
ly fusillade from the church. I must warn him.” 

She would lift up her voice and scream out, but 
knows the Texans are too far distant : “A few cries 
won’t frighten Sharpe Hampton,” she thinks; then 
suddenly grows very pale. For by the rising sun she 
sees from each house and even from the church itself 
the niozos and poblanos of the town are waving white 
flags and handkerchiefs, and shudders : “Flags of 
truce to kill the man I love !”* In her excited anguish, 
she attacks the door with her little feet and hands as if 
she would break it down and run out to warn him. 

Then, seeing oak planks are too strong for her fragile 
strength, she ceases bruising her flesh against them and 
for Sharpe Hampton’s sake forces herself to become 
cool and think with all her might. 

Suddenly she takes the cylinder from her revolver 
and examines it. A second later she cries joyously ; 
“Florito only spoiled the caps !” and goes to refilling the 
nipples with powder and from a little pouch in her belt 
recaps the weapon. 

Running to the window, white flags are floating 
everywhere ; no signs of ambush from the church, and 
Canales heading his squadron, is apparently retreating 
down the defile to lure the Texans on. 

Putting the revolver up through the grating of the 
window, Estrella fires two shots into the air in quick 
succession, and finds it gives the Texans warning. 

The little command of some thirty Rangers, that 
have been coming down the trail cautiously, though 

* This same stratagem was employed by the Mexicans at the 
Battle of Huamantla, a year afterward. By it Captain Sam H. 
Walker of the Rifles was slain, sacrificing his life to save his 
company in so heroic a manner that his death thrilled the 
whole United States.— FafiVor. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


274 

they have quickened their pace at seeing the flags of 
truce thrown not only from the ordinary dwellings of 
the town, but from the church itself, suddenly pause 
at the pistol shots. 

She sees Hampton hastily knock up two or three 
rifles that are leveled towards the opening from which 
she fired, and whispers to herself : “Thank God ; they 
know it is a friend.” Then noting that the Texans 
after reconnoitering and discovering Canales’ mounted 
lancers at the other end of the street, turn their horses’ 
heads and ride back in seeming flight up the canon, 
she wrings her hands in anguish and moans : “They are 
retreating. I have saved Sharpe, but taken the last 
hope from myself.” Though she can hardly believe 
her eyes, and, remembering Carmelita’s description of 
the dread nature of this command, sneers : “For men 
who want to die, this Spy Company seem to take very 
good care of their lives.” 

At this moment, seeing the backs of the Rangers, the 
lancers who are on horseback, headed by Canales him- 
self, can no longer hold themselves. With shouts of 
rage and cries of victory, in their excited Mexican way, 
they spur past the church and up the canon after the 
retreating Texans and nearly reach them. Then in a 
flash all is changed. The Texans wheel quick as ter- 
riers whose tails are grabbed, and meet the lancers with 
shots from deadly revolvers so coolly discharged that 
almost to each report a ranchero falls off his horse. 

“Oh, merciful Heaven, they killed nearly twenty at 
the first fire ; oh, those murderous pistols !” screams the 
excited girl. “Ah, they’re all coming this way to- 
gether.” For, with pistol shots ringing out, the Spy 
Company is now in the very midst of the lancers, the 
whole concourse coming into the town in hideous med- 
ley, dying men falling from their horses at every jump. 
Estrella nearly laughs as she sees the boy lieutenant 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


275 


called “The Bravo,” coolly smoking a cigarette, dodge 
under a ranchero’s lance and shoot him down like 
lightning. 

So they come past the captive’s window, into the 
plaza, in front of the church from which the Mexicans 
in ambuscade dare not shoot, being as liable to hit 
friend as foe. Then, Estrella gives another elated 
scream, for though shooting and fighting to its very 
gates, as the Texans reach the stone- walled convent- 
garden, they swing off and ride in. Hbre, springing 
off their horses, they man the cactus-covered wall and 
pelt with rifle-shots the Mexicans in the church oppo- 
site. 

“Oh, what a lovely ruse !” yells the girl, and, danc- 
ing about with excitement, careless of shots, some of 
which have lodged quite near to her, continues her 
comment : “They have hardly lost a man, and now 
with their rifles against escopetas, will soon make those 
in the church throw up their hands and wave real flags 
of truce. It is the last of Canales. Sharpe killed him.” 

For she has seen the guerrilla chief fall from his 
horse to Hampton’s pistol as the Ranger wheeled into 
the convent garden. 

Then another look comes into Estrella’s eyes. 
Though this tender creature has no pity for the man 
who would have made her his prey, the bodies, of two 
or three Texans lying down the road stabbed to death 
with lances, make her wring her hands. 

But the girl has little time for sympathy. Her eyes 
are too much engrossed with the combat that goes on 
about her, at its opening, quite in favor of the Ameri- 
cans, whose deadly rifle-balls search each orifice and 
window in the church opposite to them, slaughtering 
the rancheros, who fire upon them. So the thing goes 
on for an hour. Then the Texan fire grows more de- 
liberate ; apparently they don’t care to use a great deal 


276 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


of ammunition. She wonders if it is to make prepara- 
tion for the regiment of lancers she can see coming up 
the Saltillo plain, with them a light field-piece heavily 
horsed. 

“Sharpe must, be warned to retreat,” she thinks, “be- 
fore numbers overwhelm him !” and would go forth 
through the hailstorm of bullets in the plaza to give 
him information ; but the strong oak door locked and 
barred by Florito makes this impossible. 

She knows its strength too well to attack it. Into 
her mind, made active by excitement, flashes : “There 
may be some other way !” 

She goes looking about the great apartment, which 
up to this time, she had only carelessly inspected, be- 
ing kept from its distant portions by its wandering ala- 
crans and centipedes. Its recesses are dark, but re- 
lighting the torch Florito has left behind him, she makes 
a hasty search. 

Finally discovering a little portal unfastened, which 
apparently leads to the rest of the building, she opens 
it and goes groping by torchlight through the dark 
passageways and cells of the old convent, disturbing 
now and again a snake that rustles from her. All the 
time the faint reports of musketry and rifles outside 
show the fight is going on. In other days she would 
have gone shuddering, crouching, trembling through 
the gloomy route ; now she strides with revolver in one 
fair hand and torch in the other. 

Finally she finds to her eager searching a passage- 
way, leading first into a little chapel, then into the con- 
vent once used by the old priests. The din outside of 
this is terrific, showing that she is close to the combat. 
Issuing very cautiously from this, she crouches down 
behind a stone balustrade, looking from a low terrace, 
despite musket-balls and escopeta slugs that whistle 
about her, upon an awful sight. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


277 


The day is a bright tropic one. The hot sun shines 
clown through a little heat haze upon the church across 
the square, shrouded in the smoke of its musketry. In 
the foreground are the orange trees, plants and flow- 
ers of the priests’ garden, their leaves dropping and 
their twigs and branches falling to the earth, cut away 
by pelting musketry. Just in front of these, manning 
the cactus-covered wall of stone, are the Spy Company, 
marketing their reckless lives at a very stiff price in 
Mexican blood. Wounded and unwounded, the slender 
line of rangers defend this wall against tremendous 
odds, for already some of the Mexican reinforcements 
have arrived from Muertos. Two or three dead bodies 
lie in the orange trees of the garden and a dying gam- 
bler, lying beside them, desperately maimed, is de- 
liriously shrieking out : “Copper the ace !” The rest 
are all at their posts, and one, a youth, whose head is 
swathed with bloody bandage, and whose pale face and 
ashen lips foretell coming death, not strong enough to 
stand, is half leaning on a couple of saddles and firing 
his rifle slowly and accurately, doing his duty till he 
dies. 

Another, an old, hard-featured scout of the frontier, 
is patting him on the back and pouring down the dying 
boy’s white lips the last drop of water from his canteen, 
and laughing : “Bully, little Johnny, that was a great 
shot of yours. That swatted a Greaser sergeant.” 

Further down the line she hears a Saxon voice 
shouting of mounting guard in St. James’s Palace, and 
looking, sees the English lieutenant who Carmelita said 
was a lord, with a great big wound in his breast, 
propped up and shooting his rifle, but between shots 
raving of the Royal Horse Guards Blue, and lords and 
honorables and dukes and duchesses. 

Behind this line is a sunny-haired boy she recognizes 
as “The Bravo” from Carmelita’s description. He is 


278 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


walking up and down, coolly smoking his cigarette, 
though he has a cocked revolver in his other hand, now 
and then giving orders to the rangers, and selecting 
places for them to direct their fire. 

But even this doesn’t impress the girl so much as 
the figure of Sharpe Hampton, who is just springing 
on horse ready to dart out into the hail of bullets. 
Though noting the awful danger to him, the little Bravo 
has stepped up, and between puffs of his cigarette has 
called : “Sharpe, don’t try it. The boys can’t spare 
you this trip !” 

To him Hampton says: “1 have got to. We’re at 
the very last cartridge. The ammunition mule lies dead 
three hundred yards up the street. I have got to. 
How’s Harrowly ?” He nods towards the English lieu- 
tenant. 

“Going. He’s raving of Hyde Park and he’s got into 
the aristocracy. He’s fighting just the same, grffty 
but going.” 

“Then, when I’m away, you’re in command. Re- 
member Worth’s orders are to hold this pass so that no 
cavalry and light troops get behind him while he’s at- 
tacking the Loma and the Bishop’s Palace. Hold it 
till ” 

“Till I stop smoking cigarettes,” laughs the boy. 

“That will be long enough,” answers Hampton. 
“Now, tell the boys to keep down the Greasers’ fire till 
I get round the corner of the plaza.” 

Miss Godfrey is about to cry out to him, but just then 
a man falls dead from the wall just in front of her, 
and before her pale lips can frame an outcry, Hampton, 
bending low in his saddle, dashes through the half- 
open gate. The Mexican musketry seems to give him 
heavy greeting. But a yell from one or two of the 
men further down the wall tells her Hampton has dis- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


279 


appeared round the corner of the plaza. Then she 
sinks down to pray for him. 

Apparently her praying is not in vain, for distant 
screams of rage and ''Carambosr and ''CarajosT 
float from the church opposite, and the Mexican shoot- 
ing is stronger than ever despite the faint replies of the 
almost cartridgeless Texans. 

Then there is a yell, and though the bullets fly faster 
from the church, Hampton comes dashing in, springs 
off his dying horse, and throws two big leather bags 
down in the garden behind the wall, and says to the 
Bravo : “Close call ! they shot my sombrero off and 
clipped one of my spurs.” 

Then the men come gradually down one or two at a 
time, to replenish their cartridge pouches, though a few 
old frontiersmen only take powder and ball, loading 
their rifles in the Kentucky way and using patched 
balls that go very straight. 

During this, Estrella is trying to get down into the 
garden, but finds no outlet from the terrace. Once or 
twice she wildly calls her sweetheart’s name. In the 
noise of battle the girl isn’t heard. For now the Tex- 
ans are intent upon a regiment of cavalry coming up 
from the valley; ahead of it a field-piece dragged by 
twenty horses up the steep path, and the Bravo has 
cried: “There’s a gun coming around the corner, 
Sharpe.” 

“Then it must never be fired,” is the terse reply. 
Estrella hears the orders quietly given, and a detail 
tolled off, each man in rotation, to shoot the first Mexi- 
can gunner putting lintstock to that cannon. 

Almost as the words are spoken, there is the quick 
trample of hoofs, and the gun, dragged by twenty 
horses, rapidly enters the plaza and is placed in posi- 
tion, the Texans holding their fire. 

But as they wheel the field-piece into position, there 


28 o 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


is a noise as if a bunch of firecrackers was exploded 
from the wall, and Estrella sees half a dozen can- 
noneers go down, though one, apparently the sergeant 
of the section, takes up the lintstock ; but to the crack 
of Hampton's rifle, he falls dead. 

Another seizes the port fire, but a frontiersman shoots 
him down; he staggers from the gun and tumbles dy- 
ing on the plaza. And so on, every man trying to fire 
that cannon dies, till all the gunners have been shot 
away. Then the Mexican officers desperately put in a 
detail of dismounted lancers to do the work, but none 
lives to reach the cannon; and it stands only attended 
by dead men.* 

All this time the rest of the Texans are keeping down 
the fire from the church. They are not quite so many 
now. One lies moaning, with an escopeta ball through 
both shoulders; the boy who was mortally wounded 
and fighting on, has^given a gasp and dropped his 
rifle; and the English lieutenant has screamed de- 
liriously : “Charge ! God save the Queen !” and fallen 
from the wall. 

Of this Estrella has seen little ; frantically trying to 
find entrance to the garden, she has left the terrace and 
is exploring the vaults underneath the chapel. Now 
discovering a little narrow portal, she has come 
crouching through the musketry-pelted orange trees of 
the garden and is within a few feet of Hampton. 

Even as she raises her voice to call him, a shuddering 
dread palsies her tongue. The man she loves, remark- 
ing to the sunny-faced boy they call “The Bravo”: 
“Hang it, they’ve got riatas around that gun. They 
must never get it into the shelter of the church !” pulls 
both revolvers from his belt, cocks them and runs out 
of the open gate into the hail of bullets on the plaza. 

At this, even the little lieutenant, throwing his cigar- 

* This happened also at Mier in 1842. — Editor. 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


281 

cite away, mutters hopelessly : “That’s certain death !“ 

Springing to the wall and clambering up a little em- 
brasure in it, Estrella peers over and sees Hampton 
running straight at the six-pounder, that is surrounded 
by a new detail of men. 

As he comes, half a hundred muskets from the 
church across the plaza are leveled at him. She shrieks 
“Sharpe, come back!” and frantically waves something 
she has plucked from her belt, beseeching him to re- 
turn. 

Then there are cries of astonishment from the Tex- 
ans. Hampton has shot the gunners all about the can- 
non, and disabled the gun itself by firing up its vent. 
Not a Mexican hand has been raised against him as he 
comes running back. 

But now from the church arise enough anathemas 
and curses to almost unsanctify it, and volley after vol- 
ley of vengeful musketry. 

But the Spy Company’s fire is very deadly and makes 
the escopeta shots inaccurate. So Sharpe comes into 
the garden, as if he had a charmed life. Here he says 
shortly and sternly : “Boys, what dastard of you raised 
a flag of truce upon this wall and made me murder 
those six Mexican gunners ?” 

“Murder Greasers?” scream his men. 

“Yes, not one of them defended himself. They 
thought we had surrendered. I saw the white rag as 
I hurried back I” 

“Bedad, we’d no more wave a flag of truce than 
the divil would drink holy water,” jeers an Irish ranger. 

The Bravo simply says : “Not one of ns, Captain, 
hoisted a white rag.” 

Then they all pause, astounded, for a sweet girl’s 
voice from a cactus-screened part of the wall cries over 
the din : “I did.” 

Gazing at her, Hampton gasps: “Strella! Good 


282 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


God! you here?” and reaching up, plucks her to a 
place of greater safety. 

did I” says Miss Godfrey, stoutly. ‘‘The Mexi- 
cans this morning waved flags of truce to lure you into 
ambush. Turn about was fair play. I waved a white 
handkerchief to save your life.” 


CHAPTER XX. 
carmelita's return. 

With this, the rangers lining the wall near them yell 
with laughter, even as they fight, and one cries : 
“Waugh, did the Greasers up with thar own med’cine 1” 
And another shouts : “She’s clean grit, Sharpe !” 

“Yes, I — I hope I am!” answers Estrella, radiant in 
the thought that she has saved, if but for a moment, 
the existence of the man she loves; adding to the in- 
quiring and astounded faces turned to her : “Tm 
Sharpe Hampton’s girl ! I journeyed all the way from 
San Antonio to tell him not to throw away his life.” 
In the seclusion of a cactus-screened embrasure she 
holds up her lips for his caress. 

Though his hungry eyes never leave her, the Captain 
makes no move to take her to his heart, but whispers 
in a dazed yet moody way : “You here?” 

“Yes, here to tell you to — ^to live for my sake.” 

“Impossible!” A horror is on the Texan’s face. 
“Don’t you understand?” he shudders. “Don’t you 
know, girl, I have killed your father? Your father’s 
blood is between us,” and would turn from her to give 
some orders. 

But she answers : “No father’s blood ! You thought 
you killed my father, when it was only a vile wretch 
impersonating him. The shooting down of those vil- 


THE SPY COMPANY. 283 

lains was as great a kindness as man ever did for wo- 
man.” 

“Not your father?” Sharpe passes his hand in a 
dazed way over his face and mutters: “Impossible!” 

“Impossible! Would a daughter’s lips salute her 
father’s slayer?” cries Estrella, and bashfully yet ten- 
derly kisses the doubt from her lover’s face. 

Then the pent up passion of his long despair breaks 
out in Sharpe Hampton. In a hungry, crazy way, 
his arms go round his sweetheart as he listens to 
her hurried yet wondrous tale. At its close he whis- 
pers, “Thank God, you’ve made me want to live !” and 
gives her kisses so ardent that they reward the girl, 
who is half swooning on his breast, for all the dangers 
and troubles of her long journey from San Antonio. 

At a distance the fire of battle had illumined his fea- 
tures, but now close to him, Estrella sees what this 
man must have suffered, and her heart goes out to him 
even more. She nestles to him, and even with the 
bullets smiting the wall against which they lean, the 
two go into a short, blissful love dream. 

But now some hasty orders from “The Bravo” call 
Hampton to active combat. With a hasty, fervid clasp, 
he shudders : “My own, those devils of guerrillas will 
butcher you as well as us if they break in,” and springs 
from her to do desperate battle for her safety against 
constantly increasing odds : for more troops of Mexi- 
can cavalry have come, and they now charge up to 
the ruined gate, hoping to press in by very force of 
numbers. But the Texans, coolly waiting till the 
rancheros get within revolver range, open such a fire 
on the assaulting horsemen that their bodies are piled 
up around the convent entrance and riderless steeds 
run everywhere about the plaza. 

So the battle goes on. But now, the Texans, under 
the hot sun, suffer for want of water. And the Irish- 


284 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


man, coming up, touches his hat and says : “ ’Ave yes 

iny spirits left, Capt’in? Langdon’s wounded so he’s 
faintin’ !” 

^‘Spirits?” cries Estrella. “Florito’s! Give me two 
men to go with me. I can get spirits.” 

“And water also?” asks Hampton, eagerly. 

“Yes, I think so. Tell two men to go with me.” 
She runs off, followed by two rangers, through the lit- 
tle chapel and long passageways, and coming into the 
big mud-floored room of the woman’s convent, finds to 
her joy a couple of bottles of aguardiente in the saddle- 
bags of the showman and four or five pails of water 
that had been brought in for the cooking; likewise 
some frijoles and tasajo. With these she returns and 
begins to minister to the rangers, begging Hampton to 
have the wounded carried into the little chapel, where 
she attends them, pouring spirits down their fainting 
lips and giving them the attention and care that women 
give when men most need it. 

Now the talk is through the command even as they 
fight on that Sharpe Hampton’s girl, the one he had 
been crazy for and wished to die for, has come to him. 
Looking on their leader’s face, they know he wants to 
live. He becomes the rara avis of the company, the 
only one who cares very much for life. A haggard 
frontiersman voices this, between rifle-shots : “Fm glad 
Sharpe’s changed his mind about gettin’ rubbed out — 
but, by Hell, I ain’t. My wife and darter are still 
Comanche squaws.” 

This idea seems now to affect the Texan Captain. 
More Mexican reinforcements arriving, he mutters 
to Estrella, who, despite his orders, has crawled to his 
side on the firing line : “God, girl, you shouldn’t have 
come here. You make coward thoughts! I get to 
thinking only how to save you. But I can’t leave my 
wounded to be butchered here.” 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


285 


“Yes, fight it out, Sharpe. Fight it out !” she whis- 
pers. “I loved you because you were a brave man. I 
wouldn’t love you if you were a coward.” 

Looking at the girl, the Texan Captain’s face, 
though at times it has a wild light of happiness, at 
others, is covered with unutterable despair. To her he 
once mutters : “I don’t think we can get away. We 
have only fifteen unwounded men now, and the cursed 
Greasers are bringing up more troops from that valley. 
Were I alone, I wouldn’t mind — but you. Besides, 
the cartridges are getting low again. We have had to 
use so many to keep them from firing that field-piece, 
and they’re bringing up another one. When that 
comes, if I don’t stop its discharge, why, I reckon we’re 
gone.” 

About this time there are wild cries from the Mexi- 
cans. Another field-piece is being wheeled into the 
plaza under the slackening Texan fire. Then suddenly 
Estrella, who is looking on from as safe an embrasure 
as can be found, comes to him and whispers : “My 
God, Sharpe, you mean to do it ?” 

“Yes, I’ve got to, dear one. I’m going out to kill 
those gunners with revolver shots. It’s the only thing. 
Revolver shots at arm’s length sicken ’em ! Then 
there’ll be no more gunners to fire the piece.” 

But she has got hold of him and is imploring him : 
“For God’s sake, give yourself one chance. Don’t die 
before my very eyes ! Think how I came to save you ! 
Don’t go !” then has suddenly screamed : “He's gone 
for you !” 

For the little Bravo has taken two hasty puffs of his 
cigarette and tossed it away, muttering : “Reckon it’s 
my last one !” and with two big revolvers in his hands 
has run into the plaza and is shooting down the Mexi- 
can gunners just as they are unlimbering the piece. 
But he is not protected by a flag of truce, and though 


286 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


he comes staggering in, he falls dying at the feet of 
Hampton, as Estrella cries : “Why did you do it ?” 

To her he answers : “Why, Sharpe looked so cursed 
happy, I thought Ed die instead of him;” then whis- 
pers : “A cigarette, please.” But after a puff or two 
his blood chokes him, he coughs, and, opening his 
arms, as if he were taking some loved form into them, 
mutters : “Mother !” turns his face away and goes to 
Heaven — Estrella is sure he goes to Heaven ! 

As she sobs over the dead, she whispers : “Sharpe, 
that boy’s death is not in vain! I hear something 
coming down the trail — coming down — horses’ hoofs 1” 
Women’s senses are sometimes more acute than men’s. 

The Texan Captain listens and says : “I hear noth- 
ing, and yet I have good ears upon the trail”; next 
abruptly cries : “Boys, there’s horses’ hoofs — lots of 
’em — down the trail from the north. They can’t be 
anything but our troops. Never mind if you shoot 
your last cartridge now. Give it to the Greasers every 
chance you get.” 

Listening, his men hear also the sound of hoofs — 
many of them — at full gallop, coming down the trail. 
The Mexican outposts are being drawn in; they are 
preparing to ride away. 

Estrella, gazing at them, gives a gasp of horror. Ap- 
parently in revenge for their defeat, they drag out lit- 
tle Florito from the church, put him up in front of the 
wall, and a firing party sends the traitor to his last ac- 
count. One of the rangers jeers : “The little Greaser 
has got his pay from both sides now.” 

As the head of an American cavalry column enters 
the plaza, there is a cry : “May’s Dragoons I” and right 
at Estrella’s side a man remarks : “And headin’ ’em is 
Wild Harry and that dancing girl, who war spyin’ for 
the Capt’in all last month !” 

But Miss Godfrey is too happy now to have aught in 



THE DEFENSE OF THE CONVENT WALL 




•. » 




j:. 


'i'.t - / ' ' 

* '»* ■ 1» (-.A • 9 


* ♦ 


V'f 


■ .• ‘ • " vO* , 

• r * . • . . . .• ’. • • •;**. . 

■ .'■• -■ > i-V’, -. t V- 


M 






v» * 






’■.:w 


J' 






# • 


•.t 


. ^ 


» i. '■t: . 


■H» 


i- \\f V 

^ V. •■ 

... ^ 


V ••/ * -;• • ‘ ..T<» ,<’^'*;> 

.'/ . . ‘ f'.Xil' 


f 


\. 


Jl 

' f 


... 

\ 


’* >* ? ' 
■' f..^‘ 




■*: 


\. '■■ 
•« * 

•y 




. ' . 

• V 
» ^ 


• r 


• ^ 


♦’ 


» ^ •• 

'J 


• T t~ 

. \ . 


f •- . 


>; 

k ? 


. . 

r 


I •' ' 

V u 


n- 






, I 

*> 


'V''. 


!? -' 


.1 *. 


f 


». 

I 




<•' 




^ ' 

* t 

s •, 

• * 


* ♦*' 

? 


w V 

■ ■J'Vr'*' ■ 


^ • . 




,V - 'Vjt'i 




vs 






>• ‘ 


* 

A 




* 
, A 


'.i 


, 4 - 

) 


A 

*• >. 


> ’ 


S;-.- 




?■ •' 


» 

. 1 - f 


4 '* 


• S 


•■ V 
•I 


•f 






I 

y 

t 




/ 




\- 


^ i-' <''■ 


• t , 


> .. 


\ V 
I 


t 

' «■ 


\ V 


t 


< 

■ 


\' 

t 


y 






> •» 


•* t 




» 


. •••'* 


:• 


V . 


i 


: -sis 


. . i <1 


•» 


.C 

* . i 


i. I 




THE SPY COMPANY. 


287 


ner but kindness for one she thinks her sister, and who 
has once more saved the life of the man she loves. She 
looks on without a jealous pang as Carmelita, riding 
into the convent garden, calls almost hysterically to the 
Texan Captain : ‘'Dios, Sharpe, saved your life again, 
didn’t I?” 

“Whaugh, how we rid,” chuckles Harry, who is be- 
side her. “Lucky Worth has taken the Loma and 
Bishop’s Palace, so the cavalrv could be let off for this 
job.” 

A shout of triumph from the Texans announces they 
have heard this news also from some troopers of the 
relieving force, the rest having gone in pursuit of the 
Mexicans. 

Then Mr. Love, nodding towards Carmelita, mutters 
to Estrella : “She told me about yer. Jingo, yer grit- 
ty. Looks as if ye’d made Sharpe fight pretty hard 
to keep his life this trip.” He glances at the scene of 
combat. 

During this the colonel of the relieving force recalls 
nis squadrons, remarking significantly : “Hampton, 
you’ve sickened them of fighting for to-day.” He 
points across the plaza towards the shambles around 
the deserted field-pieces. 

Here a young lieutenant, returning with his recalled 
troop of cavalry, coming up, says: “Thank God, 
Hampton, I’ve overtaken you at last! Here’s a letter 
Miss Godfrey charged me to give to you.” Then Pel- 
ham, gazing astonished at Estrella, mutters : “How did 
you do it ?” 

“Fortunately, she got here ahead of her missive, 
otherwise reckon I’d gone under with so many of my 
boys,” sighs Hampton, looking at his skeleton troop. 
He is not mounted. Though a fresh horse has been 
brought up to him, he stands rather holding on the 
pommel of the saddle. 


288 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


During these brief moments, Miss Godfrey has twice 
had Carmelita’s name upon her lips, adding to it that 
of sister, but the other has always turned her head 
from her as if ashamed. 

At Pelham’s mention of correspondence, an expres- 
sion of humiliated misery runs over the dancing girl’s 
vivacious features, her face grows pale as the Texan’s 
before whom her horse is standing. To him she des- 
perately mutters : “Sharpe, here’s your correspon- 
dence,” and pulling from her breast a package of let- 
ters, stained and dirty from long mountain travel, 
hands them to the astonished Captain. 

“From whom?” he asks. They are addressed to 
him in a feminine hand that he has never seen before. 

But Miss Godfrey cries: “From me — my letters!” 

“Yes, kept from you, Sharpe, by me,” murmurs Car- 
melita. “Oh, it was easy. You were always at the 
front scouting, I took them from the quartermaster for 
delivery to you. I — I didn’t know they’d make you 
want to live! How happy your face is! Adios, 
Sharpe.” She holds out her hand. “Take it, and for- 
give me !” 

“Where are you going?” asks the ranger, his voice 
rather low. 

“To my countrymen, the Mexicanos. of course!” 
Carmelita has reined her horse to turn away. Her eyes 
are full of tears. She looks him in the face and her 
lips seem to say : '‘Querido mio — forever.” 

But Hampton, some guess of her design getting into 
him, cries: “Catch her! She’s going to her death! 
They have shot Florito out on the plaza there for being 
a spy. Do you suppose they will spare her after having 
brought you down upon them?” 

As he lays hand upon Carmelita’s rein, she plucks 
it from him and shudders : “Stay here to see you and 


THE SPY COMPANY. 289 

her? Por Dios, no!’^ and drives the spurs into her 
mustang. 

But Estrella screams : “Stop her ! She’s trying to 
get killed!” And being already mounted, rides after 
her, shouting : “Sister, come back 1” 

To her imploring, Love and half a dozen other 
troopers join the chase. But it is difficult to catch a 
Mexican girl on horseback, and Carmelita nearly reach- 
ing the Mexicans, who have turned back. Wild Harry 
suddenly pulls up his rifle and shoots. 

“Don’t! She’s my sister!” screams Estrella. “Do 
you want to murder her ?” 

“No, I want to save her life !” says the frontiersman. 
“Shoot at the Greasers, boys, as if you war shootin’ at 
ther gal. Shoot! It is the only thing will save her 
life. Plug close to her, but mind yer eyes and don’t hit 
her.” 

Under his direction, the troopers pour in a volley 
from their carbines, which reach one or two of the 
Mexicans, though Carmelita rides on. They shoot 
again as if they were shooting at her, all the time Es- 
trella beseeching them: “For God’s sake, my sister, 
my sister !” 

Then as the troopers pull up. Wild Harry chuckles : 
“That war a great idea, plugging at her as if she war 
an escaping prisoner. That will save her life from the 
darned Greasers, if anything will. The very notion 
that we wanted to kill her will make the yaller bellies 
think she is one of thar kind.” 

“Do you think they will shoot her?” questions Es- 
trella, in frantic eagerness, as she sees her sister’s red 
sarape disappearing in a cloud of dust, surrounded by 
Mexican cavalry. 

“Reckon not after our tryin’ to pot her,” cries 
Love. “Waugh, that war a mighty cute, crazy strata- 
gim of Wild Harry, warn’t it ? 


290 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


Becoming more composed, Miss Godfrey looks about 
her and says: “Why, Sharpe’s not here.” . 

“That’s kind of funny,” mutters Harry, “The Cap is 
ginerally to the front in every scrimmage.” 

The two ride hastily back, to find the Texan Cap- 
tain seated on a pile of saddles, and an army surgeon 
bending over him. 

“What’s the matter ?” asks Miss Godfrey, springing 
from her horse. 

“Nothing to be scared at, Strella!” The Texan’s 
answer is so faint she hardly hears it. 

“Nothing! Why, he’s been shot for hours,” says 
the surgeon, who is working over him. “He was bleed- 
ing slowly to death, and didn’t know it. But, thank 
Providence, I got to him in time, and now, with plenty 
of woman’s nursing-^ ” 

“Plenty of woman’s nursing,” cries Estrella. “Oh, 
he’ll have that.” 

“Yes, I see he will,” remarks the surgeon, drily, for 
already the girl has soothing hands on her wounded 
hero. 

A little after she turns to the Colonel commanding 
and says to that grim officer: “You have got to stay 
here till Hampton has recovered some strength.” 

“I guess she’s about right, sir,” remarks the surgeon, 
“for a day or two, anyway.” 

So the Colonel leaves Sharpe Hampton in the con- 
vent, but leaves two troops of cavalry to protect him 
and the rest of the wounded. 

In a few days the Ranger Captain is brought up 
through the mountain pass, attended by a devoted wo- 
man, who is sighing over him, yet fighting death for 
him as bravely as he had fought guerrillas to save her. 

Thus they reach the city of Monterey, over which 
the American flag is now flying, and here learn that an 
armistice of two months has been arranged between 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


29T 


General Taylor and the Mexican military authorities. 

From this city Miss Godfrey tries to learn something 
of Carmelita’s fate, but can hear nothing except that 
no woman has been executed by the Mexicans. 

After a time she brings her wounded lover by easy 
stages to Camargo, still escorted by Wild Harry and 
Pelham, with a detail of troopers. 

Here she is joined by Zelma, and they board a 
steamer to take them down the Rio Grande to Mata- 
moras. Upon the vessel’s deck, taking leave of his lost 
love, Pelham says rather sadly: “I — I suppose the 
next time I see you — if I ever come back from the 
front — you will be Mrs. Hampton.” 

‘T hope so,” answers Estrella, her eyes very bright 
with this idea as she turns them upon her wounded 
sweetheart, who is now sufficiently recovered to enjoy 
'the air and a cigar upon a camp-stool. 

‘T know so!” laughs Hampton, who has regained 
some of his old-time spirit : “By San Jacinto, you 
couldn’t get me to run away from her again even if I 
had shot three or four daddies. You see, Strella’s rela- 
tives have been rather hard on us. First, her putative 
father’s death separated us, and then her letters to me 
were cut off by her real sister. Between ourselves, I 
rather imagine Carmelita is Sybil.” 

“Pm sure she is,” says Estrella, “and in that matter, 
Mr. Pelham, I hear your regiment is ordered to join 
Scott and to go down to the City of Mexico. When 
there, do what you can, for Heaven’s sake, to find my 
sister and bring her back to me.” Here coquetry 
sparkles in the coming bride’s eyes. “You' know Sybil 

is very like me. Just put us in — in ” She pauses 

embarrassed. 

“In airy Mexican nothings, short skirts and bare 
legs,” laughs Hampton, who has heard the dancing girl 
episode, “and they’re as like as two peas.” 


292 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


'‘Hush,” murmurs Estrella, blushingly, “Mr. Pel- 
ham ’ll think you’re delirious again, Sharpe !” 

“Humph, you offer a very attractive inducement. 
Miss Godfrey,” observes the dragoon, and after he has 
taken his leave, walks off the steamer’s deck, whistling 
rather contemplatively. 

Two months later the big hacienda of Live Oaks is 
decked for festival. The tenants, settlers and under- 
overseers are feasting on wild turkey and fresh venison, 
and every. negro on the estate is so full of good things 
that he can only lie around and yell for his “missie.” 

This gala day is under the auspices of Mr. Alexander 
Martin, who has taken charge of his ward’s great es- 
tate, and with his daughter, the dashing brunette 
Clara, is now making this festivity for Miss Godfrey’s 
wedding — a simple little frontier ceremony, but oh, 
how happy a one ! 

This is indicated by Miss Clara Martin, who 
gorgeously arrayed in finest New York fashion, has 
acted as bridesmaid, and now remarks to Wild Harry, 
who, in the first “biled” shirt he has ever sported in his 
life, is gazing solemnly at the groom : “Don’t they 
look happy? Captain Hampton could make any girl’s 
heart beat, because he’s every inch a man. Though he 
still walks with a cane, I’d risk him against a grizzly 
bear. Are there any more like him ?” 

“Yes,” replies Harry, modestly, “thar are five hun- 
dred more just like him under Hays, and I’m one of 
’em. I’m jist like him. Waugh ! That’s a mighty cute 
hint of mine, ain’t it?” he chuckles, for his wild eyes 
have awful suggestions, and Miss Martin is red as fire. 

For one of the few times in her life, the New York 
belle is embarrassed. She has turned away to the bride, 
who has just been received by Zelma. In a modept 
maid’s dress of white, the octoroon makes a beautiful 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


293 

picture, her pearly complexion and exquisite tinting 
giving her Dresden shepherdess effects. 

As she curtesies to Estrella, she murmurs: “Dear 
mistress, did not I say out on the prairie, Fd like Cap- 
tain Hampton for a master ?” 

“You have no master now,” remarks the bride, radi- 
antly. “Sharpe and I thought we’d do something for 
you on our wedding day. You’re your own mistress. 
Mr. Martin has your papers of manumission.” 

“Oh God bless you,” cries the girl, and kisses 
Sharpe’s hand as well as his bride’s. “But — but Fll 
never leave you, anyway. I can stay with her, can’t I, 
Captain Hampton, just as you will — forever?” 

A year and a half after this, the Mexican war being 
finished. Captain Hampton and his wife chancing to be 
in New Orleans, Sharpe buying supplies for the big 
plantation and Estrella purchasing pretty things for 
herself and baby, are standing on Canal Street, watch- 
ing Uncle Sam’s soldiers, returning victorious from the 
Capital of the Montezumas. As May’s Dragoons are 
riding past, a sunburnt officer salutes his colonel and 
after a few hurried words, apparently receives dismis- 
sal. An orderly seizes his horse’s bridle as he jumps 
off and shakes Hampton’s hands, saying : “Fm luckier 
than a good many of the boys — Fve got back with life 
and promotion, and ” 

“Did you see anything of my sister. Captain Pel- 
ham ?” asks Estrella, very eagerly, her eyes filling with 
tears. 

“Why, yes!” answers the Captain, heartily. “I re- 
membered your suggestion, and if you and your hus- 
band will come up to the St. Charles Hotel with me, 
Fve — Fve a little loot from the Mexican Capital Fd 


294 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


like to show you. In fact, it’s kind of a present to you.” 

“Yes, but tell me about my sister; is she alive?” 
whispers Estrella, her eyes growing misty. 

“Alive and well, I am happy to say.” 

“Thank God !” 

And they, entering the parlors of the St. Charles 
Hotel, an ethereal creature in white muslin and big 
blue sash and well-flounced skirt, after the extreme 
fashion of that day, tripping from the verandah through 
its rrowd of Creole exquisites, says excitedly : ''Carlos 
mio, run and catch Sharpe Hampton! I saw him on 
the sidewalk below then pauses, for Estrella has taken 
her in her arms, and is whispering : “Sister I” 

“Sybil, my dear,” remarks Pelham, “you have for- 
gotten the etiquette I’ve been teaching you. Mrs. Pel- 
ham, permit me to introduce Captain Sharpe Hamp- 
ton.” 

“Oh, yes, Dios mio, Carlos, a gentleman — ^my bro- 
ther-in-law — in America, what shall I do, kiss him?” 

“Of course,” says Hampton, promptly; and Estrella 
laughs as she sees her husband get his first kiss from 
Carmelita. 

"Jesus Maria, I was trying to kiss him for four years, 
and now, por Dios, it doesn’t seem very muCh,” laughs 
Carmelita. "Carlos mio has a longer moustache !” 

But after a moment, the two gentlemen, as is usual 
in such cases in the Southwest, go down to liquor to the 
bar, leaving the ladies together. To her sister, in the 
course of their chat, Estrella says : “Sybil, how do you 
get along in civilization?” 

" Esplendido ! I am studying society under my hus- 
band’s tuition,” remarks Carmelita, in fine-lady lan- 
guor; then breaks out vivaciously: "Caspita, already 
I am the best-dressed woman in the American Army. 
I get along magnidco — everything except wearing 


THE SPY COMPANY. 


295 


stockings, and, caramba, they’re the very dickens! 
But supposing you tell me about my little nephew.” 

“I’ll show him to you,” answers Estrella, in mother’s 
pride. And Zelma being summoned, she says : “Bring 
down Crittenden.” 

“Crittenden? Oh — ah, Crittenden, the little cigar- 
ette-smoking Bravo of The Spy Company.” 

“Yes, we named our child after the boy who died be- 
cause ‘Sharpe looked so cursed happy,’ ” murmurs Es- 
trella, her eyes going far away and seeing the sun-burnt 
plaza, the smoke drifting from the musketry in the 
church and The Spy Company lining that cactus-cov- 
ered convent wall and fighting and dying that she 
might be happy. 


FINIS. 


OPINlfONS OF 

THE GREAT NOVEL, 


Mr. Barnes 

of New York. 


ENGLAND^ 

^ There is no reason for surprise at ‘Mr. Barnes* 
being a Mg hit'* — The Referee, London, March 25th. 

^'Exciting and tnferesRng,** — The Graphic, 

“ ‘Marina Paoli’ — a giant character— just as strong 
as ‘ Fedora.* ** — Illustrated London News, 

“A capital story — most people have read it— I 
recommend it to all the others.” 

—James Payne in Illustrated lAmdo^i N m>% 

AMERICA, 

“Told with the genius of Alexander Dumas, the 
Eider ” — Amusement Gazette 

“Have you read Mr Barnes of New York ? ’ If 
no, go and read it at once, and thank me for suggesting 
it. ... I want to be put on record as saying ‘ it is 
the best story of the day — the best 1 have read in ten 
years.*** — ^J oe Howard in Boston Globe, 

But at that time Mr. Howard had 
not read 

“Mr. Potter of Texas.** 


Baron Montez 

of Panama and Paris. 

A NOVEL. 

BY 

ARCHIBALD CLAVERING GUNTER, 

AUTHOR OF 

•*Mr, Baraes of New York,” “ Mr. Potter of Texas,” etc. 


“ Here, certainly, is a rattling story.” 

— N, K Times, June 5th, 1893. 

"Mr. Gunter has written nothing better than the 
volume before us, and that is high praise indeed, for 
his writings in recent years have had a world wide 
reputation.” 

— Ohio State Journal, Columbus, May 29, 1893. 

" With the merit of continuous and thrilling interest.” 

— Chicago Times, May 27, 1893. 

" The latest of Mr. Gunter’s popular romances will be 
read with interest by the many who have already followed 
the fortunes of ‘ Mr. Barnes of New York,’ and ‘ Mr. 
Potter of Texas.’ ” 

— The Times, Philadelphia, Pa., May 20, 1893. 

" This is a story of thrilling interest.” 

— Christian Leader, Cincinnati, June 6, 1893. 


ANOTHER GREAT SUCCESS, 


Miss Nobody 
of Nowhere. 

BY 

ARCHIBALD C. GUNTER. 


Full of incident and excite**ent .” — New York Herald, 

“The popularity of Mr. GunUi: will now be greatcf 
than ever .** — Tacoma Globe, 

“A story that will keey a man away 
from his meals.” — Omaha Btt. 

There is not a dull page in this volunx.'* 

'—Daily Chronicle y London, Ifan. 14, 18914 

“ Gunter scores another success.” 

—Morning Advertiser y London, Dec t6, 1890. 

“ Well worth reading.” 

— Galignaniy Paris, Nov. 84, t89a 

“Nothing could exceed its thrilling interest.” 

— Glasgow Heraldy Dec. 25, 1890. 

“Gunter’s latest remarkable story will not disappoint 
Ilk numerous admirers.’* 

— Newcastle ChronicUy Dec, 4, 1890^ 


aijiitnnr it ^ortalio 



Archibald Clavering Gunter 


“Rattling good reading .” — Mail and Express, New York. 


“As full of action as an egg is full of meat, and yet its action is as natural and well 
sustained as it is spirited and exciting.” — New York World. 


“Mr. Gunter’s latest story of love and adventure opens in Paris amid the wild 
scenes of the Revolution of 1848. * * * The graphic pictures of this historic epoch 

are vividly drawn. * ♦ * The story will be welcomed by those who enjoy an exciting 
romance.” — Home Journal, New York. 


“We have a curious insight into the methods of Italian schools of singing and danc- 
ing, ana a very thrilling account of the secret service systems of France and Austria, 
as well as of an Italian revolution.” — Times-Star, Cincinnati. 


“It contains a rnost ingenious and striking plot, worked out with great accuracy of 
detail. It is filled with an inspiring elan — and enthusiasm. If you open it you will for- 
get that time flies and a six hours railway journey will seem to you like so many happy 
minutes. But this is peculiar to all of Mr. Gunter’s celebratedj books,” — Phillipsburg 
Journal. 


“The story is cleverly told and deals with the incidents coincident with the French 
revolution of 1848, which saw the downfall of Louis Philippe. A young French woman, 
Adrienne, escapes from Paris, and the scenes are shifted to Italy where under an assumed 
name her life is filled with adventures, love ani intrigue. The story is by no means 
sensational, though told in that clear style for which Gunter is noted.” — The Call, 
Philadelphia, Pa 


“Will add materially to the popular favor with which the previous books of Archi- 
bald Clavering Gunter, such as ‘Mr. Barnes of New York’ and other tales have been 
received. The stirring days of the revolution in France (1848) when the hours of Louis 
Philippe the republican king, were numbered, makes a striking background for the 
beginning, and an Austro-Italian intrigue makes good scenery for the main part of the 
story, dealing with the escape and hounding by French officers of the lovely fugitive, 
her metamorphosis, her capture of the tenor patriot Da Messina, her heroically dramatic 
leadership of the Milan revolt, her narrow escape from death, and an exceedingly pretty 
ending to it all, which must be read to be at all appreciated.” — The Boston Globe. 


Paper, 50 Cents 


Cloth, $1.50 


For sale hy all booksellers^^ or sent prepaid on receipt of price hy 


The Home Publishing Company 


3 East Fourteenth Street, New York 


Sir Guy Chester 

OR 

The First of the English 

A NOVEL 

Showing how, years ago, England handled the question 
of Spanish barbarity in a neighboring province, similar 
to the Cuban one that the United States has solved 
to-day. 

BY — 

Archibald Clavering Gunter 

AUTHOR OF 

Mr. Barnes of New York, Etc. Etc. 


“ One of his cleverest stories." — Brooklyn EagUyMarch 2,i8gs. 

'* A vivid and dashing sort of historical romance." — San 
Francisco Chronicle^ March ly, i8gy. 

“ Always true to his historical atmosphere." — Syracuse Post^ 
March //, i8g3. 

“ As interesting as his former works." — The Argus, Albany, 
FT. Y. 

“ The story shows evidence of careful research and historic 
accuracy." — Newark Daily Advertiser. 


THE HOME PUBLISHING COMPANY 

3 East Fourteenth Street 
NEW YORK 








Archibald Clavering Gunter 


The Most Startling Novel of the Age 

r 

‘*A rattling romance.” — Nevo York Herald. 

“Mr. Gunter has used his wide resources with wisdom. The closing 
scene is infinitely significant and expressive.” — Boston Ideas. 

“Mr. Gunter is a novelist of the people. He will retain his public as 
long as he turns out such books as ‘Tangled Flags.’ ” — New York Mail and 
Express. 

“‘Tangled Flags’ is a book well worthy to begin the literature of the 
new century. Osuri Katsuma stands forth as strongly as any of Dumas’s 
heroes.” — The Literary News. 

“ A novel so well constructed and possessing so much of real and lasting 
dramatic quality that it will be read with keen interest when the events with 
which it deals have become matters of dim history. Just now it has a special 
value, because those events but recently thrilled all Christendom and are still 
fresh in the public mind. * * * While the flags of the nations are be- 

coming entangled in Peking, it is small wonder that these people, so diverse in 
character and training and purpose, should entangle their fortunes and aflFairs. 
But few living novelists have the genius and the personal acquaintance with the 
scenes and events that will help to weave them into such a satisfactory romance 
as ‘Tangled Flags.’ ” — Bookseller^ ^Newsdealer and Stationer. 


Cloth, $1.50 Paper, 50 Cents 

At all booksellers or sent f repaid on receipt of price by 

The Home Publishing Co, 

3 East Fourteenth Street 
3*^ w Tor 


"^eady in February 

The Golden Rapids 

of Hi^h Life 

A ffOVBI. 

By 

Col. RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE 

^yiuihor of "My Officio.! Wife," **Af\ Exile from 
London, Etc. 

N othing exceeds the glitter of our modern social 
whirl ! The United States are rapidly reaching the 
Augustan age of Rome, where that which was “mud 
and brick” was replaced by “gold and marble ! ” The diplo- 
matic and social life of America has its swirling rapids of 
Golden High Life in which the strong swimmer goes down, 
without a last bubbling cry. This intense novel portrays the 
theatre of the over nervous social life of to-day, the heartless 
yet intelligent circle, which is a warning of some grave disaster, 
yet to come ! The thrilling epochs of the last four years are 
herein depicted by a master hand. There are currents and 
counter currents in our national and municipal life which are 
not discerned save by those who are admitted to the inner 
circles. 

The secrets of the last few years are frankly unveiled. We 
can see where the “Ship of State” has lumbered along past 
reefs, bars and rocks ; any one of which would have caused a 
national disaster, had the worst come to the worst. There is 
a lively human interest, a deep sincerity, and a prophetic patriotism 
in every page of this brilliant story, in which love and adven- 
ture, state-craft and pride, are mingled with a dexterous touch. 

doth, ^1,25 IPaper, 50 centos 

For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by 

The Home Publishing Company 

3 East Fourteenth Street, New York 







(5,t - < ,f M[' ’ 




iv: . 


.■, w- tr' , 1 * *■*’ ^''' 

I ^ A i • f * 


, ♦* *,. .r , 

' ', ‘iVf *;’•" ■ v"' . 

•’• .-."•■i ; y I, 

. f ^ ^ ‘ ~ 


!P>‘* 


.v^ 


r», ' 

4l ^ I • 

;>sfeiiSi;.w 





4b n 

^ ■ n TO , i’. 

r /''T'.v.i.,: ' ■'Mb?/!' 

^■' ., ¥•!' '^SRi Si'. : 

'< Mi' kt., 



« i.J 


r • 


'••‘S 


l.A ■ 

I 1 




"' ‘ ‘i*' '-hli, 

• '^. , >i'>' 


r I 




» 





Jil, ■ , •r.v , m‘ 






,Vf‘ 

^ ' 4 V>V' *'0 



r . ' ' W'? ■•'■i ■■' 








f4 «• 




il 




rf H' »» 


5W.,1 




-»?. 'i 


S'y- 


♦A 


» 


I » 




4' I • 


i * A 


^ I 




iMt? 


L*v 




V>T 




, #» 




)^V 


n'i 


£ 


ilk*7Tft 4 ' /i 




'•. »■/• 


I f 


n 




' • ' *# ,1 I 










V 

% I"'" 

:"9, 

^ '^cf' ^ 

> \X- ^ 

.0 N 0 ^ V VO ^ "^ » ' ' ’' of s '^v ^ ® ^ ^ 0 /■ 

;/% \ 




o O' 

o .f *V.' 

» I ' f S '> <» r -0 N 0 '’ \^ 

"" *^’/> \V ArvfX'^'- I.''''- 

^ SiiS - A r'Amjh' o 


" o 

S . ■ 

s ^ v' ' O <f 

^\\^,V.B, , 

7\ -( •X_ _V 




„ .\i </> H * 


^ s''' v'' 

/> ^ ^ O 

^ ^ /y7^ ^ 

' Ko A' ^(\L(/^^ 'f 
- -^A ^ ^ 

O O 




o 
« 

'^- ^ O ^ ^ 3 N 0 ' V'- 

t -xO ^ '> ^ *f V ^ 

»>^ ^ ^rf^SSiijL^nfei -ft 

^ ‘Z3«bZ^ ^ ',r- 4^.\ 




r^ ^ ^ 0 

cP* h , * ' avJ 

''> "' c’t' ,'• 


' g> 0 O 

O >! "s '0,~ ^ ^ ^ „ 

^ A <>■'' 

.% ° “ 

* - ' '^'' '''•*■■' ,v.., 


/\ 




y"^-' '°o 0^’ j-i''° o 

S *- ^\\l//A<y '>' \ o '' 

*0 0^ O ,VN 

>- 

'. \ -^ V A > ^ 

' ^ *0^* <J^ ^ < 

°^‘.oso’ *.,'* ^0 ,.,, „ 

^ *\ v*n > 0''>'^-VC 

■5.'*'' *'<l'^5fe»''. ■"-#' 



'/ O 

-A ^ 


I”' 


'^'^V'vvs=^ 

. O J> « o P 

r . \,.' 9- 


'Kt A- 



r-'^' 

*0^ ^ ^ ^ 

'^A >^' - 

■ “ * .0 0^ ■» 
k. y%> ✓> 


^ kJ 



*' I s ''-^ '^> 0 ^ \ 

.<^ ^ ^ ^ A\ <, \ > fl ;f ^O 

'p 'A V -/ O 

:< ^•^/yT'Tp- ^ 

^ ‘X ❖ C5 

^ ^ 0^ 

.<ii a 



(*'J » 

“<■ Aa. 


</• .f, 




4* - A"^' "" r. ,>>. 'V 


'’> '^, ■- 


sV' 


K 0 




'* ✓ 



V V- 'C<L. rf. ‘=^ 




A' A 

■fu. ^ ^ 


1»> 


y' 





O o‘^ ^o ' V 4 

-' ^ ^ » 4. , ^- •-» M ■ V 

A - y«2?^ . _^v 


* ^ 

-A 

" sO ’^. 



V 

' ' .A ^ 0 Sf s ^0' ^ <* 



'^O ® A\ 


V... 






library of 


CONGRESS 



r 1 

j \ 

i' 

• 1 





* % 

.* - » 

« . » 

!f J. 


X. 









